Behind him, sheepish and trying to disappear into his own collar, stood a much smaller man—the boyfriend. Possibly the ex -boyfriend.
“I see,” Marvin squeaked. “Unfortunately, sir, without the original tags—” The Lingerie Salesman S Worst Nightmare
Carol was fifty-three years old. She had sensible sneakers, a reusable shopping bag, and the look of a woman who had just finished a very productive day at the DMV. She was not here for the sheer marabou-trimmed chemises. She was not here for the Parisian lace bralettes. Behind him, sheepish and trying to disappear into
Is this for a , a blog post , or a retail training guide ? I can adjust the details to fit your specific goal. She was not here for the Parisian lace bralettes
Have your own fitting room horror story? Drop it in the comments. Misery loves company—and so does a well-fitted underwire.
Finally, Gerald found it: a utilitarian, industrial-strength sports bra designed for high-impact marathons. It had the aesthetic appeal of a tactical vest.
Being a lingerie salesman requires the patience of a saint and the skills of a psychologist. Whether it’s a toddler yelling about "boobies" in a crowded mall or a fist-fight over the last sale bra, there's never a dull—or quiet—moment in the world of intimates. The Lingerie Salesman's Worst Nightmare (Video 2009)