Bras

Today, I decided to go bra shopping, despite it still being freezing out (40 degrees? Come on, Florida!) and my being sick (to the point where I was crying this morning for no reason at all other than the fact that my throat hurt). But to get out of the house, we decided to run some errands. Bra shopping it was!

On the escalator up, Jared was trying to come up with "modern" names for bras.

My favorite? The Nipple Concealing Device 47 (where the 47 comes from, I don't know. He didn't either, when I asked).

But here's a conversation he had with himself, acting out the part of the bra-selling lady and himself:
Jared (as Jared): Excuse me, maam, do you have the NCD47?
Jared (as Sales Lady): The what?
JaJ: The Nipple Concealing Device 47. Come on, woman, we don't have all day.
JaSL: I'm sorry, sir, I don't know what you're talking about.
JaJ: Fine, let me talk to your supervisor.
JaSL: Ok, she'll be right out.
JaJ: No, I said supervisor. That would be a man. Women aren't superior!
Jared, as a sidenote, as "sales lady" walks away: I'm changing the modern vernacular of brassiers. I just jumped bras up a hundred years!

I'm proud to say I bought a black and red NCD47 for $6. Without the help of a scared saleslady.