The scene: An elegant Italian ristorante on the good stretch of Ventura Boulevard. (Let's call it Il Primundo Novo al Allegro Grappa.) A rare date-night opportunity while Morticia and Gomez are at the middle school dance for three glorious, drama-laden hours. Candlelight. Genuine faux-Italian background music and a platoon of grinning waiters displaying theme-appropriate levels of swarthiness.
Jon Bon Jovi (not my husband's real name) and I are shown to a table for two in the front window and we begin to settle in. I slip off my coat and reach around to hang it on the back of my chair...reaching...reaching...a little further...and...
My chest seizes up.
Not in a "next comes the pain down my left arm/cardiac event" kind of way. And not in a "zing! went the strings of my heart/Judy Garland" kind of way.
No, more of a "I just broke my boob" kind of way.
"Hmprhzork," I say, and spin back to a frontal position with both arms across my chest as if 1) I were pledging eternal allegiance to Emperor Vorgon of the Quang Galaxy, or 2) I have just dropped my nunchuks.
"What's the matter with you?" Jon Bon Jovi says, flipping open the menu.
"I...I just blew out a boob," I wheeze.
He slaps the menu down and leans across the table before realizing he has stuck his chin in the genuine Italian candle. He huffs and moves the candle, then leans in again. "How did that happen? I mean," his eyes dart left to right and he lowers his voice, "is that even possible?"
"I don't know! I didn't invent the dang things, I'm just an owner-operator!"
Wincing, I hunch my shoulders forward and rub my chest with my forearms, tongue lolling in the corner of my mouth.
"Stop that!" he says, opening his menu again and trying to cover me with it. "Do you want people to think you're a Kardashian or something?"
"But it hurts!" I attempt to sit up straight. "And it's my dominant boob!"
Jon Bon Jovi freezes. "I'm sorry, your what?"
"You know, my dominant one. The leading lady. The first string. The prima ballerina. The big dog. The--"
"OhmyGodstop," he says, falling back into his chair. "You don't really have a, um, dominant one...do you?" He looks at me like he's wondering whether I'm the kind of person who has a favorite kidney. (Which would be weird. Right?)
"Well, of course I do."
Jon Bon Jovi takes a deep, cleansing breath - the kind he takes when the children and I pause the TV to explain "America's Next Top Model" to him.
"Okay, then. So let me ask you this: what do you call the other, ah, non-dominant one?"
"Hello?!?" I roll my eyes. "It's called the back-up boob? Was I your first girlfriend or something?"
He shakes his head and tosses his napkin in his lap. "Next you'll be telling me they have names."
"Don't be ridiculous," I say with a snort. "They're nicknames."
Hello! Hello!
ReplyDeleteEVERYONE knows about Major Boobra. Oh, Men.
You are hysterical, and I? Am amboobdextrous.
ReplyDeletei've had that boob breaking experience too, but it's hard to explain to the male of the species. what do they know about hoot management?
ReplyDeletemine are named doug and kevin, thanks to my daughter. sexy, huh?
You're just the owner/operator...Ha!
ReplyDeleteYou crack me up.
You see? This is why you get the big bucks. Your "dominant boob."
ReplyDeleteBAHAHAHAHA!
I'd have given my left tit (obviously the less favored one) to have thought of that line. Damn you, Lefler!
It's been a looong time since I laughed so hard. You crack me up. "Amboobdextrous"--I like that.
ReplyDeleteROLLING ON THE FLOOR!!
ReplyDeleteI will never forget when pregant with a 6.5 oz. baby and two 15 lb. boobs - I closed the car door on those suckers on more than one occasion.
Talk about a sprain the neck!
It's a rare, rare thing to find me laughing out loud in the early morning hours before my first cup of coffee. But you have managed it.
ReplyDeleteAlso? Now I'm going to be watching my boobs with suspicion. Who knew they could go out like that?
Once on a visit to my then-girlfriend's apartment in college, I sprained my tongue. I was trying to dislodge a piece of stale donut from a rear molar.
ReplyDelete...I feel so cleansed.
ReplyDeleteI'll confess it here. I know you're not supposed to have favorites, but, I love "leftie" long time.
She's my girl, never lets me down, always looks good.
God how I love the internet.
xo
You managed to work Judy Garland, nunchuks, ANTM and the Kardashians into one post.
ReplyDeleteWhich means I'd probably donate a kidney to you.
(My less favored one, of course. I call him Paul. Or Paulo, when trying to achieve appropriately-themed swarthiness.)
Wha? Am I out of the loop on ANTM dominant boob knowledge? I just tried googling it (so that I can assess myself, obviously), but all I got was porn.
ReplyDeleteI hope the FBI never need to search my computer. "I was just trying to look up dominant boob!"
I'm always kind of hoping for a boob injury, as I could most certainly use the swelling.
ReplyDeleteI am laughing so much, I can barely type a comment.
ReplyDelete"back up boob" slayed me!
This is hilarious. All of it. Including the comments. LOVE!
ReplyDeleteHilarious.
ReplyDeleteHa! That had me laughing out loud and trying to explain what was so funny to my mother-in-law. (Thanks for that.) I was unaware you could blow out a boob. It sounds awful! I hope you recover soon.
ReplyDeleteThese comments are all almost as funny as the post! You guys are killin' me!!
ReplyDeleteI had a loud pop in my chair at work yesterday...popped my underwire apparently. WTH?
funny but true! I have sprained mine more than once when operating the backstage battens in the theatre. I'd go up a cup size everytime I was on set crew.
ReplyDeleteI'm right boob, left kidney. You?
ReplyDeleteThis was so funny. SO FUNNY.
ReplyDelete::sigh:: I remember when I had boobs big enough to strain.
ReplyDeleteThankfully, I've always been more flexible than Gumby so neither Her Royal Perkiness nor her lesser sibling, Princess Areola, were ever in danger of such a calamitous event.
My boobettes are in mourning until you heal. They do make Ace bandages for this kind of thing, right?
And by the way . . .
ReplyDelete::snort::
Mine are Lucy and Ethel.
ReplyDeleteThe 'leading lady', the 'prima ballerina'? You are awesome.
ReplyDeleteAnd, uh yeah, of course there's a dominant boob. I hope yours is feeling better.
well? Cut to the chase! Did you ice it down with your vodka tonic during dinner, or apply a bag of frozen peas when you got home?
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure if I have a dominant one but there's definitely a smaller one. I hate to play favorites with anything.
ReplyDeleteI loved this post so much I could marry it. At work and most definitely needed an out of work laugh. :) Loved all the comments as well.
ReplyDeleteIt's hard not to have favorites, the key is to not let them know it. Owner/operator cracked me up.
ReplyDeleteMy boobs thank you for all this merriment. Oh, and I do, too!
ReplyDeleteWas I your first girlfriend?? HA.
ReplyDeleteOh, my word...that is hilarious!! I literally laughed out loud! I totally know what your talking about though...both the pain and the dominant boob (what woman doesn't have a dominant?).
ReplyDeleteOMG...I broke my boob lifting a box in 2010. But, what are you supposed to do? Put it in a sling? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think my Wonder Bra is already considered a "sling." It took about 4 months to heal (and by the way, it is also my dominant boob) but I keep rebraking it lifting common every day things like bags of groceries, suitcases, cannon balls... The only think I can recommend ia wearing the sling round the clock and lots of ice. Don't even try heat. Take it from someone living with sporatic boob breakage -- it doesn't work.
ReplyDeleteThis is hilarious. I'm laughing out loud and my 19 year old son wants to know what I am laughing at. How do you explain boob dominance and breaking boobs?
ReplyDeleteThis is hilarious. I'm laughing out loud and my 19 year old son wants to know what I am laughing at. How do you explain boob dominance and boob breakage?
ReplyDelete