So, the other day while watching Million Dollar Listing I became fascinated by a particular scene.
Josh (one of the real estate brokers) is coming to the rescue of his grandmother by changing a light bulb for her that had gone out on a chandelier too high for her to reach. (Yeah, and…)
Wait for it…The fascinating part is where she was keeping the replacement light bulb.
On his ascent up the ladder she reaches into her bra and out she pulls the light bulb. She holds it up to him and asks, “Is this what you need?” And as he looks at it to check for accuracy on the wattage and size (seemingly oblivious to the fact that it was just smothered and covered in his grandma’s boobs) he says, “Exactly.”
I’m sorry, but isn’t that the strangest place to harbor a light bulb?
In the next scene they cut to him talking about his grandmother and the litany of items that she keeps in her bra–pills…lipstick…money…food…
Strangely, all I can think is– I’d like to pull something out of my bra.
So, I begin to think of items that would make sense to put in my bra and when would I have the opportunity to actually get them out and hand them to someone.
Think about it. It would be really cool. I mean you would have to get over the gross part of it (like I did with the Josh and grandma scene) and then It would be kind of a show stopper.
Here are some of my thoughts:
- When someone at the table drops their soup spoon, I could slowly retrieve another one from my bra and hand it over saying, “No worries–I gotcha covered. Bonus–it’s nice and warm.”
- If a woman discreetly says, “Do you have a tampon?” I’ll say, “Of course I do!” And then go straight into the bra and slide it out like a magic trick–“Abra cadabra!”
- The next time a friend in need has a headache, I could see myself gingerly digging around my areola region and pulling out a perfectly good Excedrin.
So, since I’m a planner, I haven’t actually done the deed yet, but something interesting happened a week or so ago.
I was out with friends and wouldn’t you know it….a girlfriend of mine indeed pulled a handy-dandy headache helper right on out of her boulder holder.
My red-headed crazy lady friend actually beat me to the punch.
Must be less of a planner, more of a doer…..less of a planner, more of a doer….less of a planner, more of a doer.
The way I look at, this was a once shot deal, and…well…now it’s been done….crap.