Speaking Flatly

One evening, I’m returning items from the front to their shelves when I pass by sewing notions and am stopped by an older woman. As a note, I’ve been blessed with — or cursed with, depending on your perspective — large breasts.

Customer: “Excuse me. Can you help me with something?”

Me: “Oh, yeah, absolutely! What did you need help with?”

Customer: “I’m altering a dress for my granddaughter, but she doesn’t really have a lot going on up top.”

She places her hands over her own breasts to make it clear I know what she means.

Customer: “So, I know I have to use some kind of insert, but I’m not sure which to use. What do you recommend?”

I look down at my own chest and then look back up.

Me: “Ma’am, I’ve never had to worry about that, but—”

She looks down at my chest while I start speaking and then cuts me off before I can finish my offer to ask a coworker for her.

Customer: *Cutting me off* “Oh! I’m sorry! I’ll go ask someone flatter!”

She wandered off without giving me a chance to say anything else.