Hams ruin everything (even lingerie) Dear god. I was out window shopping for Christmas presents today when a sudden fancy struck me. I decided I wanted to dress up for my boyfriend tonight because WHY THE FUCK NOT. There was a Cupid's Lingerie close by. I could just pop over there and grab something real quick. Right?... Well, maybe not. This was my first time in a Cupid's and soon after wandering in, I decided to check out the garter belts. I already own one in black, but every girl needs one in white, too, right? Sure. Let's go with that. Excuses to buy pretty things. So, I started browsing the rack. 3X. 3X. 3X. 3X. 3X. 4X. I stopped and sloooowly looked around. Had I wandered into the plus size section? Were there normal sizes elsewhere? Nope. There was no plus size section. This was it. This was simply the lingerie section. They didn't have anything smaller than a XL in the garter belts. Well. Okay, then. I continued to wander the store. Finally found a schoolgirl outfit in a small (there was only one such size small in the entire store, for the record, and no, there will not be pictures). Yay. I can get out of this ham haven. I made a beeline for the counter and finally laid eyes on the only employee seemingly working the store at that time. Big surprise. She was a ham. But not only was she a ham, she was a ham who, at that very moment in time, was ravenously devouring a cupcake. Where. The fuck. Did she get this cupcake from?! I have no idea. But she was just sitting there on this stool, om nom nomming a fucking chocolate cupcake. I'm sort of surprised she didn't eat her own fingers (given that they were covered in frosting). After a good twenty seconds of me simply standing there, witnessing this brutal cupcake murder, the porker finally noticed me and lumbered over, surprisingly abandoning her not-quite-fully-eaten cupcake so as to actually do her job. At least she also had the good decency to wipe off her fingers before she handled my things. Andddd that's the end of this tale. There was no epic shitlording (I honestly didn't have enough brain power to come up with anything witty; I had just woken up after working an 11 hour night shift). If there were hammy glares of envy, I didn't notice (because by this point I had become distracted by a display of flavored massage oils because I have the attention span of an ADHD squirrel surrounded by shiny nuts). I paid. I left. My boyfriend and I had a fun night. BUT SERIOUSLY. WHO THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK. My brain is broken at the thought of a Grade 4X Beetus Juice Guzzler stuffing her luscious curvesfat fucking rolls into lingerie. And what the fuck is up with only catering to real womeynzlard barges, Cupid's?! Next time, I'll just order my sexy things online. Shit.