The Perfect Bra: Overheard On a QuietRide Car

On the QuietRide car of a train hustling between Linden and Princeton, New Jersey, two women are overheard.

“How’s that new bra treating you?”

“Oh, well. Y’know. It’s good as far as it goes. I’m so spoiled these days, working from home. No bra is always the best bra. But what do you look for in a bra? What’s your ideal brassiere experience?”

“Hmm, well. I don’t want anything that gives me a uniboob.”

“Ah, right. Separate, but equal.”

“I guess my ideal might best be described as a gentle girdle for my chest. I want my breasts to be slightly elevated on a soft cushion. Encouraged, but not forced. Presenting as robust, yet unassuming.”

“I hear ya, I hear ya. You want a structure that emerges from below to support you and bear you up, rather than something comes over against you to make you conform.”

“Yes! The perfect bra will maximize my strengths and not quibble about my deficiencies. It will highlight my bosom’s unique qualities and contributions, both at home and in the workplace.”

“You want lingerie that doesn’t feel diminished by your prodigious chest, but sees your expansiveness as a boon to its own inimitable existence.”

“Now you’re talking. I want respect without fear. I want collaboration between physique and fabrication. I want the weight of my bosom to be evenly distributed so that no part of me aches. I want my boobs to be so frickin’ decentralized that their glory will never be so densely concentrated in one place ever again!”

“Preach! Preach!”

“Let my excess of being be free and unashamed! May a universal priesthood of brassieres mediate perpetually between my boobage and the cosmos!”

“YAAASSSS!!!”

The women fall silent. The car is quiet, save for the rhythmic rocking of the train.

“So...how much longer will you get to work from home?”

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