Things you lose when you fall in love.

No.9. Your inhibitions.


This story isn't related to 'Things you lose...' but might explain why false teeth
will always have a special place in my heart.

I once worked in a huge works canteen in the summer holidays between school
and college, a friend and I were promoted to the 'steak bar' a horseshoe shaped
eating area, frequented by the executives.
We served the food from the middle, and often whilst serving, our chests would
be at eye level for the men, we noticed that, the more cleavage we revealed,
the bigger the tips(!). Tucking our feminist principles into our boob tubes
(well, it was the early 80s), we worked that bar like a couple of shameless hussies.

I realised one day we may have gone too far when a slightly older gentleman,
staring at my chest, more boob than tube by this point, started to slaver
disturbingly, then choked and coughed up his entire set of false teeth onto
the plate of Bakewell tart and custard I was holding for him.
We looked at the teeth, then each other. We were both too shocked to speak.
I slowly put the plate down in front of him, pulling up my boob tube
for maximum coverage (learning a hard lesson in gender politics),
whilst he scooped up his teeth with a spoon (lovely manners).

To this day, it's the best reaction I've ever had to my cleavage.