My Mother’s Bra Size

by Adam Lucas

Yesterday I went shopping, buddy, down to the mall
– “You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch),” Bruce Springsteen

My best friend, Darley, is a red headed girl with nipple piercings and ankle tattoos. She has this theory that a man’s penis size directly correlates to the bra size of his mother. I think Darley must have been breast-fed as a child.

We were sitting in the food court at the mall when she made this observation. A short, pudgy guy, probably twenty years old, was standing in line with his mother, trying to buy a slice of pepperoni from Sbarro. His mother was even shorter than him, top-heavy, looked a little bit like Yoda.

Out of nowhere Darley said, “I’d like to sleep with him.”

“Who?” I asked, looking around for a long-haired, tall, tattooed hunk.

She pointed to the pudgy guy. “That one. I bet he’s loaded below the belt.”

Then she explained her theory.

I asked, “Have any of your boyfriends had mothers with big boobs?”


“Well, have any of your boyfriends had big dicks?”

“Not a one,” she said.

“That doesn’t prove anything then.”

“It doesn’t prove I’m wrong either. Look here.” She pointed with her pinky. “See his zipper. That bulge ain’t exactly there for nothing.”

“That isn’t his dick. That’s the way jeans are sewn. They always stick out right there.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Not like that they don’t.”

I scooted my chair out and stood up, straightening my pants.

“Here, look at my jeans. See the bulge?”

She looked below my waist, smiled and raised her shoulders.

I looked down. The bulge was missing.

“No way,” I said. “It must have disappeared when I smoothed out my pants. See?” I bunched them up so the bulge reappeared.

She raised her shoulders again and continued watching the pudgy guy.

I sat back down and thought for a moment. My mother wears an A cup. Suddenly, I’m embarrassed.

ADAM LUCAS is a full-time writer in search of a brilliant literary agent for his redneck thriller, The Highway-Song Holy-Roller Lovesick Rebellion. He spends his free time moderating the Writer’s Digest forums, wrenching on rusted cars and dancing with his beautiful wife. In real life, his mother doesn’t wear an A cup. He just wanted to be sure everyone knew that.

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