Dear Bra Guy



Dear Bra Guy,

Let me start by admitting that it is not often I am rendered speechless; however you became one of the few people who have left me absolutely gobsmacked. So I guess a congratulations is in order for successfully accomplishing this. It’s no mean feat - I really like to talk. So well done, sport. Life is all about little wins after all.

So what did you do that left me rather taken aback? Well. It started at date number two. Date number one was nice enough, rather enjoyable. So I was mildly optimistic about the second.

You invited me over so you could cook me dinner. Tick. You researched something to make that was appropriate for my specific food allergy. Big tick. You had wine ready when I arrived. Bigger tick.

However after we finished eating dinner and were in the kitchen washing dishes, you came in for a kiss and very swiftly unhooked my bra.

No ticks. Zero ticks. Actually, minus ticks. You appear genuinely baffled by my shock, so here is a bit of an explanation:

1.     This is only the second date. At this stage we’ve only had a kiss or two. Just because you’ve cooked me dinner, do you really think that’s your ticket in to my pants? Its takes a bit more than a couple of rice paper rolls to woo this lady, pal.

2.     Washing dishes is not foreplay for women. That’s just a little tip for you, moving forward. Contrary to what you may think, wiping sweet chilli sauce off a plate doesn’t get us all wild and promiscuous. So next time a woman you barely know is washing dishes, maybe don’t get all up in there and try to remove her undergarments.

Also, I still have Morning Fresh suds all over my hands, so I can’t exactly do my own bra back up and put Mary-Kate and Ashley back in their rightful positions.

So I have to ask you to do my bra back up for me, before I politely thank you for dinner and depart.

Now although I had somewhat written you off after this incident, you were very persistent. You kept getting in touch, kept asking for another date, and kept apologising for assuming that when I said ‘please pass the sponge’ that meant ‘please take off my clothes.’  So, being the generous person I am, I gave you a second shot and we went on another date.

You organised a lovely date for us at a local jazz bar. Tick. You brought snacks and wine for us to enjoy as this venue had a BYO situation. Big tick. You came to my house and picked me up like a lovely gentleman. Huge tick.

However at the show’s intermission when we headed outside in to the carpark to get some fresh air, you came in for a kiss, put your hand up the back of my top, and very effortlessly unhooked my bra.

Cue the aforementioned speechlessness.

Really, mate? Really?

Firstly, we have had this chat. Stop flippantly unhooking girl’s bras. It’s impolite and presumptuous. And secondly, we are in a carpark, with 50 other concert patrons. Do I really strike you as the type of girl who is keen to get down and dirty in a car park in front of 50 middle-aged jazz enthusiasts? If so, please do let me know, because that is most certainly not the type of vibe I wish to be giving off. However you explain that no, you didn’t think that’s what I would be after, you just think that you are particularly gifted at unhooking girls’ bras, and wanted to showcase that skill to me.

Bra Guy, there are plenty of amazing talents I have. Loads. For example, I am really good at:
  • Eating an entire tub of Nutella in one sitting.
  • Doing the Thriller dance.
  • Growing a fairly decent moustache if I leave my upper lip unattended for long enough.
  • Reciting every one-liner from ‘Mean Girls’.
  • Drawing the Stussy ‘S’ like an absolute boss.

However Bra Guy, I don’t feel the need to showcase all these talents to everyone I meet, because it’s unnecessary, weird or offensive (except the Thriller dance - that’s necessary, not weird and never offensive.)

Just because you’re good at taking girls’ bras off, doesn’t mean you have to do it to every girl you come across. Imagine if Tom Cruise married and divorced every woman he met. Or Kim Kardashian made a sex tape with every man she encountered. They’re both really good at those things, but they don’t show every person they run into.

So, Bra Guy, while I think its lovely that you are very excited to show me your talents in the bra-unhooking area, I am not going to congratulate you, applaud you or present you with a gold star.

I am going to say good day sir, and please take your talents elsewhere.

All the best.