I’ve been many things in my life,
but I’ve only recently turned into the “wing-woman.”
I’ve found myself transformed into “the girl who you can still talk about other women’s 'figures,' ” around.
Breast talk, and sex talk are “OKAY” in the company of Chrissie.
Except, maybe not.
Sure, I can mostly blame two men in particular for this phenomenon, but they have their own issues.
After all, one spent years courting me and never succeeded.
And the other spent minutes courting me and succeeded… if only for a minute.
Either way, I sometimes find myself in their company wishing I had another woman around.
My own WING-WOMAN to stare down all the tall, dark, and handsome with.
Because while their discussing THAT girl's chest
I just sit wondering what’s wrong with mine…
and contemplate why it’s all they have to talk about.