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  • Valentine's Day
    9 Feb 2005

    The last time I went into a lingerie store to buy something months ago (just a wholesome thank you gift for a petite friend of mine) I still get those awkward uneasy feelings. That pervasive uniquely american cultural trait always surfaces the second i walk into a place like that; woman's undergarments stores are sinful and no place for a male.

    It's like I go out of my way to act "normal". I keep my hands out of my pockets. I don't make eye contact with any other customers. I don't touch or stare at any of the clothing. And out of the corner of my eye I can see the mother's walking by the mall storefront, holding the hands of their child, and looking at me. I am sure they are thinking, "How shameful...what a pervert!"
    When I finally get the nerve to seek help from an employee (always donning a low cut blouse and push up wonder bra) I inevitably mutter something brilliant like, "This isn't for me", followed by an uncomfortable forced laugh, because she doesn't find it funny. It usually only gets worse from there on out. I don't know the proper names of most of the items, and for some reason i turn beet red if i have to say "panties" to a strange woman. Unimportant details like knowing the right size always adds to my uncomfortableness as well.
    "Chest size?", "Cup size?".... "I don't know...well, i think she's about your size", as i find myself starring at her breasts, as if i'm mentally trying to pull off some scientific size comparison.
    And it's impossible to give honest answers to the salesperson's questions about what you really want. You can't just blurt out, "That black lace transparant teddy with the nipple holes over there would give me an eight hour boner", so you have to act all dispassionate and dignified and say, "This is really something for her so i want it to be practical and comfortable"...