Excuse Me, Your Nipple Is Showing

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Our guest blogger Jenny from the Blog fesses up: “I told a stranger that her nipple was showing.” Would you?

truuconfessions welcomes guest blogger, Jenny from the Blog. Jenny confesses regularly on her own site, The Suburban Jungle and is now going to share her penchant for finding irony and hilarity in everyday situations on our site.

Her latest confession: “I told a stranger that her nipple was showing!”

“Ahem, pardon me ma’am your um nipple is showing.” Seriously, if I had a nickel for every time I said that—I’d have at least five cents. Not unlike Katherine Heigl, Janet Jackson, and Tara Reed, this woman’s wardrobe malfunction was someone else’s eye candy. Actually, in this case I wouldn’t exactly call it eye candy. Though I must admit, I stared at her nipple for quite some time—in a train wreck kinda —while debating my moral obligation to alert her. Initially, I thought it best to say nothing. She clearly put in some serious man-hours getting those boobs to bust out of her bra and show the oversized tat of a phoenix emblazoned across them. But, as I stared at the bulging offender, I thought, “I hope someone would be courteous enough to mention my nipple peeking from my bra.” It would most likely be more embarrassing to hear it than to say it and she probably wouldn’t like me much for telling her. Hell, like the girls on the Bachelor always say, “I’m not here to make friends.”—which is totally true, I rarely seek new companions at the register of Old Navy.

After a few long minutes of inner turmoil, I took a deep breath and whispered the words I hope not to utter often in my life. “Excuse me ma’am, your nipple is showing”

“Huh,” she replied loudly as she was unable to hear.

The others folks in line had noticed the conversation and thinking, “Yep, it sure is.” I then repeated myself using mostly hand gestures. I was making a circle around my own boob to point out the area I was referring to. You know, the international sign for something’s up with your boobage. “I thought you’d like to know your nipple is uhhh, you know.”

She looked down and without even a blush took care of it, as if I merely pointed out that her shoe was untied.

Then she looked at me after using her studded nails to shove that puppy back in there and asked, “Don’t you just hate when that happens?”

Did she just ask me that? Really? How am I supposed to respond? It took a lot out of me to politely tell her about her nipple in the first place now I should feel compelled to respond and show some sort of camaraderie? “Who doesn’t hate when their nipples inadvertently pop out of their attire at Old Navy? If only someone could come up with an item of clothing that one could wear under their clothes that would form a shield over those bitties.” Okay, I didn’t say that, I went with “Uh huh” and took my turn at the register where I purchased a cute tee shirt. Gee, I hope it covers my nipples.

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