There are certain moments in every person’s life when they feel as if they have slipped into The Twilight Zone–when reality tilts on its axis just a tad.

For me, one such moment happened when I was lured inside The Jockey Store by a SALE sign. We all know how expensive the small scraps of fabric are that we wear underneath it all, so anytime I can get “foundational garments” cheap, I’m there.

As it so happens, I was shopping with my mother, and she struck up a conversation with the rather loud lady running the store while I perused the bras. I’m pretty darn picky about these things and evidently the opposite of most other females–I’m not into excessive padding, lace, or underwires, so I was surprised to find something that fit the bill AND was in my size. I picked up one in white and one in black and headed to the check-out counter.

I never made it there, however, as I was intercepted by the employee, who checked the size on my near purchases, and declared rather loudly that I should probably try one on, because she didn’t think I looked like I could fill it out. Embarrassed, I looked to my mother, who seemed to be wearing an expression of agreement. Okay, I thought, I’ll go try it on.

And here is where my world shifted.

The discretion challenged sales clerk said, “Be sure to ring the bell when you’ve got it on, and I’ll come in and make sure it fits.”

What? I had been wearing a bra for, I don’t know, thirty plus years at this point. Is it possible I’ve never known if they fit or not? Does this woman have some degree in bra fitting I’ve never heard of? Can one be an expert in the proper fit of bras?

So I tried it on, and I thought it fit pretty darn good, and I was somewhat reluctant to ring the bell and have this stranger flounce into my dressing room to inspect my cup size. But then again, who was I to make that decision? I mean, my degree was in theatre so maybe I had just been acting like my bras fit all these years.

I hesitantly pushed the button and waited. She appeared, declared it a good fit and left. And that’s when I knew that if all else failed, I might have another calling.

Bra fitter.

Sometimes it takes a stroll through The Twilight Zone to illuminate these things.