oobs

The other afternoon one of my co-workers—a pretty, busty, blonde California girl—came up to the front of our office where I was sitting with our other project manager. She glanced furtively down the hallway to make sure that no one was heading our way and then said very quietly that she had to tell us something.

- “Hey guys, I have something to tell you but you have to PROMISE not to tell anyone else at the office, okay?”

We quickly agreed and several possibilities flashed through my mind: 1) she got another job on the sly (but no, she was happy here and doing well), 2) she’s getting married to her long-time boyfriend (but no, she would have bounced in much earlier with news of that caliber).

This left me only one plausible explanation—3) she’s was getting a boob job.

But my brain immediately rebelled. Why would she do that? She already had gigantic jugs. Anything larger would just be foolish! How would she find shirts that fit? She would have to pack 50 pounds onto her hips just to even things out. But who knew, it seems that ‘bigger is better’ is California’s unofficial state motto—at least when it comes to women’s chests. (This trend has yet to catch up to their asses, but I’m patiently biding my time.)

Anyway, it took only a split second for all of this to rush through my head, and then she excitedly announced that she was going to law school. Applause. We enthusiastically congratulated her on this important, life-changing, career-shaping decision.

And I felt like a giant ass.