There are sporty girls. There are petite lassies. And then there are those gals for whom serious undergarments are a necessity.
We’re the same gals who can’t wear button up blouses. So why did I ever think it would be possible to buy a life jacket?
Me, in specialty sports store in front of a wall of marina gear: “Do you have anything for women?”
Clerk (who is just out of diapers. Honestly, he can’t be more than eight.): “Yes! All our styles are unisex.”
Me (sighing): “Yeah, here’s the problem with that. I am not Unisex.”
Usually males can tell this. I’m taking this as a bad sign.
Clerk (handing me a life jacket): “Try this universal one. It’s adjustable.”
I look at it. The only things adjustable are two straps that wrap all the way around. Which means that if I were a barrel, it would fit me perfectly.
Me (shaking head): “Nope. No place for the suspendibles.”
(I flummoxed him with my command of language.)
Me, trying it on: “See?”
I do up the top strap. The thing balloons out like an isosceles triangle. No way are those bottom straps coming together. There’s a mountain range in between.
Me: “Don’t you have anything that bends in the middle?”
Clerk (scratching nonexistent beard): “Maybe try only doing up the bottom strap?”
I demonstrate. Strap rides up to my waist. Jacket rides up over my face. I could do up the top strap, but then I couldn’t talk. It might also be hard driving the boat.
Clerk: “What about cut-outs?”
Me: “You mean deface the product by cutting out two custom sinkholes to fit around the twin Rockies?”
Clerk (with far too much enthusiasm): “That’s the idea.”
Me: “Won’t that affect the buoyancy of the product?”
Clerk: “I don’t think you have a problem with buoyancy.”
Revising estimate. Kid may be older than I think.