Size B

In August, I did some shopping for some unmentionables. After trying on every small sized bra in the store, from AA to A to almost B, I found two that fit quite well. One was a size A as usual, but one was actually a size B. I have never been a size B before. I've always been much smaller, except for a few months when nursing an infant during which I skipped over B entirely and was quite pleased to be a C. It didn't last. Anyway, now in one particular brand in one particular bra style I am a B.

I know you are sitting there, Reader, thinking, that is more information than I needed, thank you very much. But that's not true. You need that information, as It is relevant to this post. I promise. Be patient.

Last Thursday, in a span of less than 24 hours, I was mistaken for a student three times.

The first time was at a banquet to honor our best students. I had invited five of mine -- excellent students, all. I was sitting at their table, chit-chatting, when a student employee wandered by and offered me a chance at the door prize.

"I don't think I'm eligible," I told the student helper.

"Oh no," he insisted, "Everyone is eligible."

"Are you sure? That seems strange...."

And then he paused. "Unless... you're not faculty, are you?"

I am, actually, faculty. So I wasn't eligible.

After the banquet, I went to introduce myself to the guest speaker. His research had been in an area related to my own, and I wanted to thank him for his words and chat a bit about research. We had a lively conversation; he answered a couple of my questions, and I described my interest. He concluded by asking, "Are you a grad student then?"

Nope. Faculty.

And then I had an appointment for undergraduate advising, and after a chat about classes to take and things to try and places to go, the student asked, "So are you a student, or grad student?"

No. Not either.

In all three situations, I smiled politely and let the persons involved know that, in fact, I was faculty. And they smiled and stated that I looked so young it was hard to tell....

Which is odd. I'm not really very young anymore, and I think I look my age. Mid 30s now. Definitely older than a student.

Anyway, I was pondering over these three events, wondering why they should all happen within the same 24 hours, when nothing like this had happened for a long time. What did these three events have in common? What made me appear so youthful so suddenly?

You know what it was, don't you, oh Reader?

For the first time in a couple of months, I was wearing the size B bra.

Young and attractive. That was me. Ten years removed from my appearance by the increased cup size.

Dude. In ten more years, I may be ready to consider implants.