Bra Peril

Today I got stuck in my bra. My new Champion front closure perfect fit sports bra. Tired of wriggling out of sweaty pullover styles that peel skin off my shoulders as they roll up my spine, I thought I found the perfect solution in a center zipper. No more contortionist poses. No more ponytail pulling. My trusty morning run companion… Well, I just painlessly slipped my arms into the straps, not realizing I should have looked for a warning label. Like the kind pillows have. Or blow dryers. “Don’t remove this tag or you’ll do something stupid probably.” This one should have read “Don’t forget to properly attach the bottom of the zipper or you’ll be trapped in a stuck zipper bra and be late for your workout”.

I burned more calories wrestling out of that contraption, ultimately peeling it away just like the old bras I’d sworn off. Never one to give up, I fixed the zipper and spent a fraction of a second making sure the bottom was secure this time.

I think the two of us are going to get along just fine now.