Over the weekend, I went to Victoria’s Secret to buy some undies for my sister for her birthday. It’s not weird; sisters buy each other underwear. What was weird was that there was a man working the register. And he wasn’t even obviously of the, shall we say, effeminate persuasion, which would’ve made it a little better for some reason. He was one of those questionable types.
Handing over my fistful of panties, I said, “I’ve never seen a man working at Victoria’s Secret,” only because I felt his presence was the elephant in the room and I should say something.
“Yeah, there aren’t too many of us,” he said with a smile.
“Do you feel weird at all, handling these things?” I asked, as I watched him meticulously folding each thong, stroking and caressing them one by one. (OK, he neither stroked nor caressed, but he might as well have. Eewww.)
“I did at first, but now it’s no big deal,” he answered, wrapping the panties in the signature pink tissue paper.
“Do you, do, like, bra fittings and stuff?” I asked awkwardly.
“No, no, I just pretty much work the register and then I straighten up the merchandise, stuff like that,” he said.
“Good, because that would be kind of weird,” I said. Sort of like going to a male gynecologist, I thought but didn’t say it.
Of course, my next question was, “Why would you choose to work here?” But I didn’t ask, thinking it was either a really dumb question if he were straight or a really rude question if he weren’t.
But then he handed me not a bag, but this box, with one side assembled and the unassembled lid just thrown on top, and sent me on my way. I felt so silly walking out of the store holding it like it was a bakery cake.
And that is just one reason men should not be working at Victoria’s Secret.
So is it just me, or would you feel funny too having a man publicly touching your unmentionables? You can add your comment by clicking in the little caption bubble by the headline of each post.