So we were standing in the checkout line at the grocery store the other day, and I briefly noticed a nice-looking, early 20-something couple at the register next to ours before unloading our basket. As I started rooting around in my purse for some legitimate form of payment for our groceries, I glanced at John and noticed him staring with an intense, and yet baffled, expression in the direction of the couple.

I swear I need to pay closer attention to the man because I just noted his look and went on with my busy-ness … until he interrupted me with:

“So what’s the third strap for?” What the hell is he talking about? I thought as I glanced up to see him still looking in the direction of that couple with that expression on his face.

I glanced back over my shoulder and noticed that the woman was wearing a tight, black, spaghetti-strap tank top, over a tight turquoise tank top which only showed as turquoise lace at the bottom and spaghetti straps at the top. Sure enough, there was a set of hot pink spaghetti straps also.

“It’s her bra,” I said before turning back to my wallet and fishing out the magic plastic money substitute.

“If she’s cold, why doesn’t she wear a thicker shirt, or one with sleeves?” John said.

Are you kidding me, man? “I don’t think she’s wearing two shirts for the warmth so much as to look stylish and sexy.”

“So showing her bra straps is supposed to be sexy?”

“I guess so,” and I’m laughing in little snorts by now.

“Hmm, y’know, back in the ’70s women wore only one of those tank tops and no bra. Now that was sexy.”

Peace, love and funkadelic support for those free-range boobies.

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