Granny Lines

I entered the lingerie store looking for underwear that wouldn't show pantie lines while also not sawing me in half, either. I exited the store with something akin to fashionable granny panties.

Fashionable was the salesgirl's word for them, not mine. It was her evasive counter attack to my shock and awe and utterance of the word granny. She also used fashionable to make me feel better about being 20 years older than her and too mature to wear a thong, something, I explained to her, I reserve for footwear only.

She just couldn't get over her own youth, as she wrapped my unmentionables in pink tissue paper and tucked them into one of the store's larger shopping bags with handles, so I wouldn't strain under the weight of the largess. So offended, by her insulting customer service, I wanted to throw down a hissy fit right there at the cash register . . . but I maintained my composure. She had already run my credit card.

The good thing is, however, I don't have pantie lines anymore. On the other hand, the bad thing is, I have granny lines now.

Makes me want to tuck my skirt in my panties and run.