My BFF, Skinny Bitch, is a very confident woman. She has no body image issues what.so.freaking.ever. I know. She’s a freak.
When I met her, she had no boobies. Just nipples. Really. In fact, one time she made a crack about flashing a nipple at someone, and added “And I DO mean a nipple.” She was fine with that.
The one drawback is that she is a clothes horse. And? Certain clothing was off-limits to her because it required actual boobage to fill it out. Thus began the carefully thought-out campaign to get her some boobies. She asked opinions. SB didn’t want a gigantic rack, just enough to fill out her clothing.
She demonstrated by calling a girl over who had the right size A cups, and told her we all wanted to look at her cute dress close up, when in reality, we were assessing her boobies, and mentally cut and pasting them onto Skinny Bitch’s nipples.
Skinny Bitch was in bra and clothing heaven after her implants. She had never owned a bra before, and she found a whole lot of them on sale, because of their small size. She bought 25 of them.
The first time I saw her after her operation, she met me for an hour in a diner across from the bus terminal, as I wasn’t scheduled to visit in her city that weekend.
Right in front of God and old ladies, she whipped up her shirt and showed me her new boobies. In the diner. She made me repeat the words “They are spectacular” (Big Seinfeld fan) I dutifully admired the spectacle, but drew the line at feeling them in the diner. I would take her word that they felt natural.
I was telling our mutual buddy, Will-Yummy, about SB’s latest adventure, and warned him that she would offer to let him feel them. He may be gay, but he’s an excellent sport.
Sure enough, when we were both in her city, the three of us arranged to go out together, and before we left, she had to show him. And let him feel, because they were all natural feeling. He made the obligatory oohs and ahhs. SB was giddy.
I wonder if it occurred to her that he had nothing to compare them to. You know, him being gay and all.