Magic: The Boobening

I am the youngest and only female staff member in the comic shop where I work. I am also described as being a short, really busty Tinkerbell. This has caused some problems in the past with customers, but this is by far one of the weirdest experiences I’ve ever had.

We’re running a “Magic: The Gathering” tournament, and due to there not being enough people, I agree to jump in and play, too. When I get to the second round, I am put against a man a few years older than me who always comes in with his mom.

Me: “Hey, [Customer], so I know you’ve been playing this game for years. I started, like, three months ago. So, try not to crush me, all right?”

He smiles and nods, and the game goes on. I’m doing surprisingly well and manage to beat him in two out of three games, sending me to the next bracket. After we shake hands and he congratulates me, his mother comes to the table while we are getting our decks back together.

Mother: “You know, you really don’t have to resort to… those tactics to win. Is that what [Store Owner] told you to do today?”

Me: “Uh… what?”

Mother: “You know! Obviously, these boys can’t play well if they’re distracted!”

Me: “Distracted by…?”

Mother: “Those! How much tissue paper did you stuff that shirt with, anyways?! You look like Dolly Parton!”

She’s waving her hands towards my chest, which has now gotten the attention of other players around us. Both her son and I are now blushing from the attention being focused on us.

Me: “Ma’am, they’re real. There isn’t anything stuffed down my shirt. And I can’t do anything about their size or whether or not people stare at them. I won because I got lucky, that’s it.”

Mother: “Well, he should still be allowed your spot, because you distracted him!”

Me: “Hey, [Customer], did I distract you with my feminine charms?”

Customer: “Your what?”

Me: “My boobs. My huge tracts of land. Were you too distracted to play?”

Customer: “Um… no? No, you’re a minor. I swear I wasn’t checking you out!”

Me: “I know you wouldn’t, but seriously, tell your mom that. Okay, off to the next player!”

The son looked a little embarrassed, but at least his mom shut up and let us all finish the tournament, standing in a corner to pout like a child. He still ended up doing really well, and we joke about me cheating whenever he loses to me in a game.