CUPS
Mmm, there it is again. The black 2 piece hanging off the balcony of the apartment across the way and up 2 stories. If I focus I can see a drop of wonderful wetness form on the clasp, then when it has grown, like my curiosity, it falls only to dash on the concrete below. The black cups, they are huge, the Bikini bottoms are disproportionately small. My How is it that I have lived here for the whole summer and all I ever see is the dripping bikini, never the bikini wearer?
Like a snake skin recently shed, I only find the evidence, never the perpetrator. Damn you cerebral cortex, damn you Y chromosome. How dare you make my imagination your slave. The thing is its not really anything other than my imagination. I am entranced only by the item, well the item and my damn imagination. In my Imagination she has jet black hair to match the suit and deep Green Walt Disney eyes that flash like a breaking wave in the moonlight. My base emotions are like the beach as my imagination continues to pound it with waves of curiosity. Slowly the curiosity erodes at my common sense. Who is she, where is she, perhaps its only some sick bait provided by some witch to draw in a poor Irish lad?
Cups.. Ok so since we are on the subject of this particular part of the female anatomy, that’s a perfect segue to my next question.
I was recently conducting a interview for a registered nurse position. Now this is a position that one would consider to be educated and to be frank someone who understands the nuances of what is considered appropriate behavior. As a head hunter, I mean recruiter lol, it’s part of my job to access my prey/ candidate; quite the Contrary to the popular belief that I just like to check out nurses… I will go into the process of accessing and grading my candidates in a different rant. So my candidate, Alice we will call her, comes in and offers a warm smile, firm handshake. She is dressed in pressed scrubs (mmm scrubs) and is clean and presents well. No noticeable perfume, but I can assure you that she uses Pantene hair care products, God bless her. Her nails are clean and trimmed, a little makeup, sensible shoes. Yes, Alice presents very well and looks the part of a 50 something nurse with 30 years experience. She speaks clearly and effectively with personality, yet maintaining that professional line. This is a woman who has been on the front lines in nursing and can talk to a doctor or a homeless person equally effectively, and she understands that there are times when words count. My colleague, the interim director of nursing and I continue our inquisition and are both quite impressed with Alice. As we near the conclusion of the interview I can sense my colleague is a as impressed as I so I ask Alice for her id’s so that I can move forward in the process. Alice flashes me a smile, then with 2 hands reaches into the top of her shirt, rummages around as if in a trunk or bag of magic tricks, and withdraws her identification. The first thing I notice is that both items are well above room temperature. Something must have flashed across my face, perhaps it was the blush that was red as a fire truck and produced more heat than a thermo-nuclear detonation. Alice quickly stammered that it was uncomfortable to carry the rigid driver’s license in her pocket, so it was more convenient in her bra. Quickly I glanced at my colleague expecting a look of disdain and instead was slapped with “oh that’s ok I do it all the time”!
Ladies I have to ask you, if you walked up and asked for my car keys and my hand shot down my pants like a rabbit in a hole, only to produce said keys and a smile, both quite warm I assure you… well I mean? Damn. Now, I understand that often times yoga pants don’t offer the cargo capacity that a sports bra does and frankly I don’t care where you carry your iPhone or Marlboros, it just seems that for the fairer sex it can be a bit unnerving to see you reaching into your shirt as if something is burning or biting you.
Just saying…
Girls Response
As a lady, I'm going to tell you that you are seriously over thinking the whole "pull something out of the bra" thing.First of all, our problem starts with fashion. For some reason or another, clothes that are cute or fit just right don't have pocket capacity. Have you ever noticed that those really cute jeans you like seeing your girlfriend run around in don't really have..pockets? Back pockets are small, and things have a tendency to slip out of them. Front pockets are like...maybe knuckle deep so it doesn't fit in there. Men's shirts and pants have more pocket space, because women are supposed to be compact, and curved and we aren't meant to have bulky pockets full of junk.
... On the bra / pocket debate here ... could the woman not bring along a small purse or a wallet, that's what those are for. I also agree on the other side that the keys down the guys pants isn't a good analogy and yet also agree the id thing in the bra was a bit unprofessional for the interview setting. 
