Under Where?

Culturally, when a young girl gets her first bra, it 

may be symbolic of her coming of age.

It was a fine day in Pleasant Grove Utah. On all accounts it seemed like any other day of the year. Nobody could have expected the catastrophic events that would soon present themselves on this very ordinary day. I was sitting, and chatting with my younger brother Preston as he was playing some pointless online game. The location of the computer was such that I could sit on the bed and easily talk to him at the same time. My mother was simultaneously folding laundry immediately to my left. We chit chatted about who knows what when I realized that I was getting close to being late for work. 

At the time I was lucky enough to be an employee for the Quiznos corporation. Mmmmm toasty I say. On a side note I believe that I have consumed over 200 chicken carbonaras at that store. I would highly recommend that beauty of a sandwich. When I arrived at my place of employment I was stunned to find a beautiful woman standing there supposedly coming to visit me. I knew her well, she was in fact my homecoming date. Admittedly I was slightly abashed. I may or may not have had a pinkish red hue dancing across my cheek bones. I offered up some conversation for a few minutes and decided that it was high time that I sign in for work and help the few straggling customers that had trickled into the store. It was then that the crap hit the fan.

I was absentmindedly putting on some latex gloves so that I could properly assist the hungry customers when I was violently shoved into the Quiznos preparation room. My good friend and coworker had nothing but terror on his face when he reached down near my buttox and said, "What the freaking crap is this thing?" To my sheer astonishment and horror he lifted up what appeared to be women's underwear. I couldn't believe my very eyes.  Little known to me my little sister had begun to start wearing what they call training bras. I don't technically know what that means. My greatest guess is that the training bra is what is used to prepare to wear a real bra. I don't know if wearing a bra is strenuous and requires training, but it must be that some training is required or else they wouldn't invent the curious things. I immediately threw the brasserie into the nearest trash can. Probably trying to throw away the memory of this horrifying event.

It was the most devastating, embarrassing moment that I have ever lived, and maybe ever will live. When I called my mother and told her the story she actually forced me to sift through the trash and collect the foul under garment. The worst part was the positioning of the the bra on my backside. It wasn't just barely attached and unmistakable. Supposedly both shoulder straps had connected themselves to the Velcro of my back pockets. The underwear was literally spread eagle across my bungus. What I fail to comprehend was how the thing managed to stay attached from the house to the car ride all the way into the store. Embarrassing moments sometimes define the people we are. I just hope to never relive something like this.