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Crazy People Encounters: Sweaty Boob Crystals


Crazy custysFrom u/SavannarghTalesFromRetail

Lots of women wear bras. I'd say a majority of women wear them to support their boobs and to look/feel nice. There's a small minority who also seem to view their bras as magical extra pockets in which they can store money, their license, their credit cards, and their crystals.

Betty Bra (BB) comes into the store on a fairly regular basis, usually to complain about how overpriced everything is, while pointedly mentioning the store owner by name and archly looking at me as though she expects me to fall to my knees and beg for the opportunity to give her a discount because she knows the owner. You and a million others, BB. Store owner freaks out if I give a refund one day after the 14-day return policy, so no dice on discounts from me.

Anyway, today BB was complaining about the price of our tumbled crystal selection. You know the kind, you could buy a handful of them for two bucks at those "Natural Wonder" stores in big malls back in the 90s. Our store selection is a little more varied and popular among people who think carrying them around will make them rich, attract their soul mate, get them a job, or keep evil energy away from them. Some of these people may possibly be crows in disguise. I don't put anything past customers these days.

So BB is walking around the tables with the selection of tumbled crystals in their various boxes, and bitching.

BB: "Why does STORE OWNER price these so high? I can buy the same ones cheaper at Another New Age Store!"

Me: "No idea, m'am. I have nothing to do with the purchasing or pricing." And thinking, of course, why don't you just go to Another New Age Store and buy them there ffs.

BB: "And why would this rose quartz be so much more expensive than this one??"

Me: "One is a small, tumbled crystal and the other is a larger, natural crystal."


She puts them down and stomps up to the counter with a Look in her eye. I smile blandly. She plants her hands on the counter and leans over to regard me closely.

BB: "So you know a lot about crystals, huh?"

Me: "...yes." As long as it has nothing to do with their energies, I know enough. Everything else, I Google.

BB is satisfied with the answer, straightens up, and reaches down the front of her shirt and begins fumbling around in her bra. I say nothing. BB is a larger woman, so this act is taking a lot of uncomfortable contorting and grunting and flesh jiggling and I suddenly decide I need to check the store's email.

Oh look. A sale on plates that energize food.

BB finally clears her throat and I reluctantly note that she is holding her hand out to me, fingers extended, palm open. In the center of her palm are several tumbled crystals. Her palm, fingers, and the crystals are suspiciously moist.

BB: "I bought these at Another New Age Store last week."

I nod.

BB: "But they're not giving off any energy."

Me: "It's only been a week. Sometimes it takes time for the vibrations from you and the crystals to get used to each other." (Note: I am making it up as I go along.)

BB looks thoughtful, but keeps her hand out. My own hands are firmly on the computer keyboard.

BB: "Maybe. But I'd appreciate it if you tried them out. STORE OWNER wouldn't have hired you if you weren't sensitive to energy."

PET45The store owner hired me because I lied my butt off about my metaphysical and otherworldly experiences, because I know my way around computers and programs and graphic design, and the other employees have an average typing speed 20 WPM combined, and because I'm a chump for applying for this job in the first place.

BB wants me to touch her boob crystals. Her damp, boob crystals. Not just TOUCH them, but feel their energy. I promptly balk.

Me: "I'm afraid I can't."

BB looks offended: "Why not?"

Oh, so many reasons, chief among them the boob sweat still glistening on the crystals beneath the fluorescent lights.

Me: "I'm not comfortable touching another person's...crystals. Especially when they've been so close to you. The uh... energy, you see. It'll mess up my own."

BB stares blankly at me for a moment, then her eyes widen.

BB: "Oh. OH. Oh my goodness, you're an empath, aren't you! I completely understand! I'm one too, and I can't stand eating out because of all the collected energies in the silverware, it really gives me indigestion. Especially at the Olive Garden, since it's right by the senior home? All the energy of those old folks can really mess up your system."

I nod understandingly. Whatever it takes to not touch sweaty boob crystals.

She shoves the boob crystals back into her bra like someone stuffing a turkey for Thanksgiving. Her hand, wrist, and most of her forearm vanishes down the front of her shirt, until only her elbow is visible. The contortions and grunting resume and once more I find myself completely absorbed in reading about the benefits of charging an apple with positive energy from a crystal plate. Ions are mentioned a lot.

Some higher Retail Power was with me, because BB, per her complaining about the prices, wasn't interested in buying anything, and left without touching anything with her boob moistened fingers.

But just to be on the safe side, I took the Lysol and spent a good half hour wiping down everything BB had potentially touched because you just never know when someone has been feeling up their boob crystals before going shopping.





Gods below, this seems worse to me than boob money. IDK why, logically, it's the same principle, damp sweaty thing I'm expected to handle, but it does


Nah, salty, damp rocks, aren't nearly as gross to me as soggy, smelly paper.

Kai Lowell

I used my bra as a wallet. Once. In sixth grade, long before I realized I was not in fact a lady.

So damned uncomfortable I never did it again. How do people put up with stuff other than boob in their bra?


I sympathize completely with not wanting to touch other people's sweat. However, I must point out that boob sweat is scarcely different from any other sweat. (There is some difference. Milk is just fancy sweat, after all.) You really are much more likely to catch something nasty from touching a person's hands than from touching their boob sweat.


Doesn't mean I want to handle someone else's bodily fluids, wherever they may have come from.

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