Shock and Awe

So, now that I am an athlete, I decided the time had come to purchase some serious garb, so headed to a well known sports store to take a look at the Extreme Support Shock Absorber Bra's, in an effort to avoid Charlie Dimmock nipple, even more stretch marks and two black eyes. This made me feel slightly better about the €44 - €57 price tag, the first thing I saw having moved like a Gazelle across the wooden shop floor trying to impress upon the fit young staff that I was totally entitled to be there...as a fellow athlete !
Now, girls of my size are apparently not meant to run as the bras fell a little short of my ribcage size but I decided this would aid in containing the puppies so picked up two models, lacking two inches from my actual measurement. I chose a double clasp back fastening version and a zipped front fastening second choice. I asked the young male attendant if I could try them on, and he hastily advised me that the changing room was at the back, averting his gaze from the hammocks in my hand.

I entered the small changing room, immediately took off my dress and bra and eventually managed to tease the back fastening one off the hanger. I placed it over my head and it came to a halt just under my neck like a massive double chin strap . My boobs were swinging some 5 inches lower, so I quickly realised the straps would need to be lengthened if they were ever to meet in the middle. I quickly took off the Shock Absorber and after about 6 minutes managed to get the hook out of it's snug location half way down the strap and repositioned it in the last rung. I heard some fit young thing cough outside to get me to hurry up , but I was determined to get the bra on so ignored her. I then attempted to lengthen strap number 2...to no avail. The sweat formed on my brow as I failed time after time to release the catch, and eventually decided to fit the bloody thing on anyway as I was now mightily p****d off. I again struggled into the bra, but now one cup was a little closer to my boob the other still under my chin. My efforts to make it reach my chest led to a lot more sweat, my neck being knackered, my face going bright red and a noise emitting from me like a cow in labour.....to no bloody avail ! I am clad in knickers, tights and a contraption which looks like a form of torture and then I have to get the feckin, thing back off. The fit young thing kept coughing as the sweat ran down my back and I struggled like Houdini to release myself. In a rage I fecked it backwards on the hanger, decided not to even attempt the other one and struggled back into my bra and dress, emerging some minutes later red faced, sweaty with a facial contortion. The fit young thing, stifled a giggle as her skinny little ass brought size 8 leggings into the now thermal changing room. I quickly left the store, no longer gliding but shuffling and headed to Marks and Spencers, where big girls are encouraged to run.....