Sometimes I honestly believe I live in a sitcom. There are moments that occur that have to be because there is an audience out there somewhere laughing.

I work in theatre, so about an hour prior to curtain I have to be there in case something goes wrong with tickets. I look like a fancy grown up. It’s sometimes fun, I get to meet lots of different people and hear their stories. My favorite is when I hear about how much they love certain shows. It’s fun. I like getting out there, sometimes.

So for this particular day my friend who goes by the name of Squeak is there for the performance. He runs up and gives me the biggest hug known to man, and somehow he manages to snag my bra with his watch and break the thing open.

For the next twenty minutes I’m standing behind our half moon table petrified that if I move my elbows in any particular way the girls are going to drop in such an unflattering way and I’m not so much afraid of saggy boobs but the idea that EVERYONE IN THE THEATER would know I wasn’t wearing one. I’m one of those psychotic people that outside of a shower i like to wear a bra. It’s just how ya do.

The funniest part of this is that Squeak is the super GAY. The sight of boobs freaks him out.

And thus he became: Squeak, the titty liberator.

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