BRA PHONES?

I’ve heard of cell phones, iPhones...but never ‘bra phones’…not until today, anyway.

How many hours have you spent in your lifetime doing nothing but waiting in a check-out line at Wal-Mart? Probably enough to receive your doctorate in just about any field – such as a brain surgeon or an astronaut…or maybe enough research hours that provide the answer to totally eliminating body odor or cat urine…odor… removal... maybe. I just learned of a high level entry job that is interesting. It’s called an Odor Judge. In this job you get to smell arm pits all day, thus ending in the discovery of a deodorant that really works. You could be a cowpuncher or a gator wrangler. Not that the last two choices would require as many hours of study that equal the number of hours you have waited in a check-out line.

Oops, sorry, I’m not here to discuss higher intelligence…I must get back to the subject of Bra Phones.

Okay, it happened like this….Once upon a Wal-Mart trip standing in line to check-out time….like today…I watched as two young men, very young men, hung out with the basket in front of me…while the seat of their pants were hanging out around their knees…oh, 'cuse me… couldn’t resist saying that…anyway, I watched these two young, very young, men. Shortly, a stout lady, whom I assumed to be their mom, walks up and takes over command of the basket. The two young men, very young men, walked away. Before they could return to Mama…the unforgettable incident happened. It was a sight I’ve never seen before. So, naturally it grabbed my attention!

I didn’t hear a phone ring, but that means nothing…because I can’t hear it thunder most of the time. But I did see ‘Mama’ reach into the top of her blouse and to my amazement, when her hand came out…it was holding a cell phone.

Now, this really caught my attention. All of a sudden I realized waiting in line to check-out at Wal-Mart would never be the same.

Mama grabbed that cell phone, opened the flap and held one end up to her ear and talked in the other end of that thing. I’ve seen cell phones before. I know how to use one. In fact, I have one. Who doesn’t? But in all my years, and they are many, I’ve never seen anyone pull a cell phone from their bra. Well, Mama said her piece - closed that little fold-up-fone…and you guessed it! She put the phone in…the…other… side…of her blouse. Now I could see the oblong form showing through the black blouse.

The stashing of the phone stirred a chuckle inside of me,…I quickly grabbed pen and pad…(I keep those in my purse, too)….and thought to myself, “I wonder if that phone is on vibrate.”

I’ve tried to think of a great, or even a small, moral lesson to this, but so far, nothing has hit my brain. I have a slightly sinking feeling that it’s not going to hit my brain before I finish typing this story, either.

I did come to one conclusion while watching this cell phone drama unfold: a bra phone is much more convenient than digging for a phone in the bottom of a purse. When my purse rings…I jump to the excavation site ready for a cell phone dig, and often, before I can retrieve the phone…my purse stops ringing. Because of the easy access of a bra phone, it’s certain you won’t miss calls. You know, I don’t like digging for my keys either…hmmm… nah…nah…it was just a thought.

By now I’ve reached the ‘load your stuff on the counter’ area and I grabbed a small bag of salted peanuts. They might come in handy when I wait in another line somewhere.

Ok, I’ve come up with four lessons to this story (and there should have been more):

1. It is possible to be entertained while waiting in line.
2. Always keep pen and paper handy.
3. To expedite phone calls, use bra phones.
4. You never know what is hidden in someone’s clothes.

That’s the end of my story. Thank Goodness