Thursday, January 03, 2008

Cowboy poetry - Buying a bra

I ain't much for shopping,
Or for goin' into town
Except at cattle-shipping time,
I ain't too easily found.

But the day came when I had to go -
I left the kids with Ma.
But 'fore I left, she asked me,
'Would you pick me up a bra?'

So without thinkin' I said, 'Sure,'
How tough could that job be?
An' I bent down and kissed her
An' said, 'I'll be back by three.'

Well, I done the things I needed,
But I started to regret
Ever offering to buy that thing -
I worked me up a sweat

I walked into the ladies shop
My hat pulled over my eyes,
I didn't want to take a chance
On bein' recognized.

I walked up to the sales clerk -
I didn't hem or haw -
I told that lady right straight out,
'I'm here to buy a bra.'

From behind I heard some snickers,
So I turned around to see
Every woman in that store
Was a'gawkin' right 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 gave me a disgusted look,
'Well sir, that's where you're wrong.
Follow me,' I heard her say,
Like a dog, I tagged along.

She took me down this alley
Where bras was on display.
I thought my jaw would hit the floor
When I saw that lingerie.

They had all these different styles
That I'd never seen before
I thought I'd go plumb 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 ain'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 that measurement by heart,
'A six-and-seven-eighths.'

'Six and seven eighths you say?
That really isn't right.'
'Oh, yes ma'am! I'm real positive -
I 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 all was 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.
Then I turned to leave the store,
Tipped my hat and said, 'Good day.'

My wife had heard the story
'fore I ever made it home.
She'd talked to fifteen women
Who 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 women's underwear.

~ Author Unknown ~

Thanks Gene

1 comment:

The old Guy said...

Great site! I don't actually remember how I stumbled onto it but I stop by to check out the jokes. Anyway this poem should be credited to Bill Hirschi, according to this link