Cowboy poetry–buying a bra
By Bill Hirschi
You know, I’ve never been much for shopping
In fact I try to stay away from town –
Except when shipping time comes,
I ain’t easily found.
But the day came when I had to go
And I left the kids with Ma.
But before I left, she asked me,
“Would you pick me up a bra?”
Without thinkin’ I said “sure,”
How tough could that job be?
I bent down and kissed her
and said, “I’ll be back by three.”
Well, when I done the things I needed
I started to regret
Ever offering to buy that thing,
I was working up a sweat.
I crossed the street to the ladies shop
With my hat pulled over my eyes,
I wasn’t takin’ any chances
On bein’ recognized.
I walked right up to the sales clerk
I didn’t hem or haw.
I told the lady right straight out,
“Ma’am, I’m here to buy a bra.”
From behind I heard some snickers
So I turned around to see
At least fifteen women in the store,
And they’s all gawkin’ at me!
“What kind would you be looking for?”
“Well,” I just scratched my head.
I’d only seen one kind before
“Thought bras was bras,” I said.
She gives me a disgusted look
“Well sir, that’s where you’re wrong.
Come with me,” I heard her say,
And like a dog, I tagged along.
She took me down this alley
Where bras was on display.
Well I thought my jaw’d hit the floor
When I seen that lingerie.
They had all these different styles
That I’d not seen before –
I thought that I’d go crazy
‘fore I left that women’s store.
They had bras you wear for eighteen hours,
And bras that cross your heart.
There was bras that lift and separate,
And that was just the start.
They had bras that made you feel
Like you weren’t wearing one at all.
And bras that you can train in
When you start off when you’re small.
Well, I finally made my mind up
Picked a black and lacy one.
I told the lady,
“Bag it up,” And figured I was done.
But then she asked me for the size.
I didn’t hesitate.
I knew them measurements by heart,
“Six and seven eighths.”
“Six and seven eighths, well sir,
That really isn’t right.”
“Oh yes ma’am, I’m positive,
I just measured them last night.”
I thought that she’d go into shock,
Musta took her by surprise.
When I told her that my wife’s bust
Was the same as my hat size.
“That’s what I use to measure with,
I figured it was fair;
But If I’m wrong I’m sorry ma’am.”
This drew another stare.
By now a crowd had gathered
And they’s all crackin’ up.
When the lady asked to see my hat,
To measure for the cup.
When she finally had it figured
I gave the gal her pay
I turned to leave the store,
Tipped my hat and said, “Good day.”
My wife heard the whole story
‘fore I ever made it home.
She’d talked to fifteen women
Who’d called her on the phone.
She was still a-laughin’
But by then I didn’t care.
Now she don’t ask and I don’t shop
For no more women’s underwear.
This page was last updated March 21, 2008.