The lunch crowd included two new people yesterday. By "new people" I mean a) people unfamiliar with our coarse lunch conversation and b) people who were actually new to being people - they were both in their early 20's. (I initially wrote "We had two new people for lunch yesterday" until I realized that might be confusing. I had a hot dog for lunch yesterday.)
The lunch conversation began elegantly enough, then turned to my dog and all our dogs and the sentience of dogs and how they know more than they let on. I began to tell the story of how I get dressed and my dog knows I'll be leaving the house and he'll be alone.
I'd just started, and since we were all female I said, "He usually gets sad as soon as I pull on my brassiere."
"I'm sorry?" said Girl 1.
"I put on my brassiere and he gets sad."
"You put on ... what?"
I just looked at her.
Girl 2 said, "Yeah. What's that?"
I looked at their boobs. Girl 1 had enough boobage to require support. I must have been talking too fast.
I said, slooowly, "Brrraaaasss -"
"Oh! BRA!" Girls 1 and 2 looked at each other like they'd cracked the Enigma code. "Of course, bra!"
Girl 2 said, "I've never hear it called that."
"Yeah, that sounded familiar. I knew 'brassiere' was something I should know, I just didn't know what it was," said Girl 1.
In answer to my pained look, Girl 2 said, "I mean, I know what a bra is. I wear a bra. Some of the time. Sometimes I don't really need it though, like if my shirt isn't clingy, then -"
"Oh shut up," all the older women said.
So I sighed and continued, "He usually gets sad as soon as I pull on my foundation garment."