Hey, You Left Your Lights On

A curious thing happened last week.

I saw that Mamela was in the office early one morning and I wandered over to her desk. "How are you today?" I asked. "Oh," she responded gravely, "I have something I want to tell you."

Prepared for good news, bad news, work news, personal news or a decided opinion, I took a cup of coffee in hand and sat down opposite her desk. "Talk to me, " I said.

Looking sharply into my eyes, she released the following diatribe:

"I took my mother in law shopping this past weekend. I take her to the big fancy smancy mall on the Island that J-Lo shops at. You know, the one in Manhasset. She wanted to shop for a new bra--although she still calls them foundation garments--so I took her to this specialty bra shop there where they custom fit you and tailor the bras to size."

I am hardly able to follow her train of thought. "Where are we going here?" I inquire delicately. Invoking her vernacular I say "Bottom line it for me."

"Why dontcha listen?! I'm getting there!!" she bawls me out loudly. I retreat and she continues.

"So they got everything you want there. Mega bras galore. For women like you and me.." (and at this point she does the stage-glance down at my chest) "..we need bras that fit. Top heavy girls like us need some extra support, no?"

I'd never thought of my boobage as "top heavy support" but I do have a bit extra up there. As does Mamela. So I keep listening.

"So while I'm looking at their bras, I find the greatest thing. Nipple guards."

WTF?

"Yes, nipple guards," she replies, seeing my perplexed face.

"Wha..?" I utter only before she begins speaking again.

She needed no prompting. "You know when it's cold in a building and your boobs get cold and well, there's no delicate way to put this...you're heading north. You left the lights on. You're winking hello."

Oh. THAT.

She continues, "I hate that. It looks bad. So I want to cover that up so people don't look at my tits"

Before I can explain that it's nature and let's be honest--is it so bad that people stare at one's tits, she continues.

"So at these nipple guards are these silicone inserts that tuck into your bra which deflect a pert nipple showing through."

"You've got to be kidding, " I responded, "what is the point?"

"Well, it looks hoochie. I don't like it at all," said Mamela, quite ladylike. Then she added, "I bought myself several pairs. I was thinking I should have bought a pair for you. I should have."

Silence.

I was concerned. "Why?" I blurted out. "Are my headlights always on?"

She demurred, "It happens to all of us."

I thought about it for a second. "Listen," I told her, "It's bad enough that I have to wear a bra. If I'm putting anything over my nipples, it won't be a piece of silicone that doesn't breathe and sticks to my skin. If anything, it's much more likely to be silk with a tassel."

Mamela rolled her eyes. I furtively glanced down to make sure the lights were off. Let's just say the dimmer was on low.