You know, just when I think there are things right with the
world
– the kids are back in school, gas prices are actually below $3,
the new Target opened in Morgan Hill – I read the news and find out
that a store in Arizona has installed something called a butt cam
in their dressing rooms.
You know, just when I think there are things right with the world – the kids are back in school, gas prices are actually below $3, the new Target opened in Morgan Hill – I read the news and find out that a store in Arizona has installed something called a butt cam in their dressing rooms.
And no, I didn’t know what it was at first, either, but I did think it was a) gross; and b) possibly something illegal.
Turns out a butt cam is a camera placed in a dressing room in a prime buttock viewing spot that lets you view your rear on a plasma TV when trying on jeans. I can’t help but think this is opening a big old can of worms. Oh sure, it sounds good. No more turning and twisting in front of the dressing room mirror. No more looking at one cheek, then the other and trying desperately to make them form a united butt in your mind so you can determine how large the pockets make your fanny look. No more walking out and grabbing an unsuspecting salesperson and demanding that she tell you if your butt resembles the Titanic.
Instead you just aim your tushy at the camera and flash the plasma.
But look, I think this has issues. For one thing, doesn’t the camera add 10 pounds? Isn’t that why Hollywood starlets never let anything edible pass their lips? So what happens with a butt cam? I mean, you can’t be sure that’s your real butt up there on the big screen. It might look like your butt only 10 camera pounds bigger. How is that better than twisting in front of a mirror? Sure the cheeks are united, but at what cost?
And you know, I’d prefer asking a salesperson if my butt looks big. Let’s be honest. They want to make a sale. They aren’t going to say, “good Lord woman, leave this store immediately! Just exactly how much Ben and Jerry’s have you eaten this summer?” Instead they’re nice. And usually if my butt looks like the back of a steamship, they’re tactful about redirecting my rear to a more flattering cut.
But you can’t do that with a TV. A TV just shows you that indeed you have eaten too much Ben and Jerry’s this summer. There’s no redirection to a more flattering pair of pants. There’s no hiding what the plasma shows you.
And it’s not just that a TV would tell the truth about my fanny, while a salesperson may not. The jeans in the store cost anywhere from $135 to $900 a pair. If I’m shelling out that much cash, I expect a little service, not just some TV forcing me to realize that I need buttock reduction surgery.
Hey, I’m not too proud to admit it. For that much, I expect the salesperson to be standing there, shielding my giant fanny from overwhelming the TV. And she had better be saying, “Mrs. Sontag, those are fantastic on you. They make your butt look like a size 2.”
Of course, the butt cam is private, as a butt cam frankly should be. Nobody else has to see what your tushy looks like on a big screen. On the other hand, they do have a public butt cam for those who are confident about their fanny. That would be the plasma suspended in the main area of the store, where the entire world can see if your buttocks are truly worthy of $900 jeans.
The problem with this is, of course, that even a $900 pair of jeans cannot help some people’s buttocks, no matter how confident they are about their rear ends.
Oh, please, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. They’re the same people who wear spandex and absolutely should not. But what happens to them if they flash the plasma? Are they liable for any accidental blindness that may result when a not-very-toned-tushy appears on the big screen in a pair of too-tight jeans?
I just don’t get it. I guess I’m better off twisting and turning in that dressing room – oh and I have a word of advice. If you’re trying to find the butt cam online, don’t Google it. There are things that you’ll see that will burn your retinas more than an overconfident woman in a too-tight pair of jeans.
