Wow, if I had a nickel for every time I said that… I’d have a nickel.
Well, in this case I wouldn’t call it eye candy, though I must admit, I stared at her nipple for quite some time, in a train wreck kinda way, while I debated my moral obligation as a fellow female.
At first, I thought I should say nothing. She clearly spent serious man hours getting those boobs to bust out of her shirt and reveal that stunning tatt of a phoenix emblazoned across them.
But, as I stared at the protruding circumference, I couldn’t help but think, “I hope someone would have the decency to point out my nipple if it was blatantly visible or even just subtly visible, for that matter, as I think it’s a universal goal to keep them hidden in public places that don’t have floor to ceiling poles. Which this Old Navy, did not. I can’t say as much for Forever 21, though.
Sure, it would be more embarrassing to hear someone point it out than to be the pointer-outer. And she would probably dislike me for mentioning it (no one likes the messenger), but like the girls who go on the Bachelor always say, “I wasn’t there to make friends.” – which is totally true, I rarely seek new companions in line at the register at Old Navy. Though, I may befriend you in line at Barney’s or Neiman’s (just sayin’).
After about 10 minutes of internal debate, I took a deep breath and whispered the words I hope not to utter often in my life. “Excuse me ma’am, your nipple is showing”
“Huh,” she replied in that rude way people do when they pretend they don’t hear, but really they’re not up for chit chat.
Now, the others in line were looking and probably thinking, “Yep, it sure is,” as was forced to repeat myself using hand gestures. I was making a circle around my own chest to point out the area I was referring to. – You know, the international mime for something’s up with your boob, lady?
“I thought you might like to know your nipple is ummm, you know.”
She looked down and without the slightest blush took care of it, as if I merely suggested her shoe was untied.
Then she looked at me after using her bedazzled nails to smoosh that puppy back in there and said, “Ugh, don’t you just hate when that happens?” — as if she were talking about forgetting her credit card or picking the long line.
Frankly, it took a lot out of me to politely tell her about her nipple, I didn’t want to imply to the folks who awaited their turns while intently listening to our tet-a-tet (as I would be doing, if I were them), that I too am a victim of the nip-slip.
(Which by the way, I totally am. Last week at a water park I came out of a slide with only one triangle of my bikini doing it’s job — ahem, pointed out to me by the lifeguard. And this very weekend at a wedding, when my Hollywood Tape gave out, I was told side boob was showing… by my dad! *mortifying*)
But I was not about to admit to those infractions. Plus, this was noon, and we were all dressed in normal lunch attire. Boobs aren’t supposed to pop out at noon!
She awaited a response.
“Sure, who doesn’t hate when their nipples inadvertently pop out of their attire midday? Gosh, if only someone would come up with an item of clothing that you could wear under your clothes that would not only push-up but also contain those puppies?”
Okay, I didn’t say that, I simply went with “Umm Hmm,” and I took my turn at the register where I purchased a cute tee shirt, which I truly hope it covers my nipples.