Well, sure there is. Being required to walk under the massive sign that screams out exactly what is wrong with you [the WOMEN's fitting rooms], and discovering your chest has grown, leaving you that much further from having an average male body than you had previously thought....
I was ready to cry before being all "boys don't cry". Which is so obviously a lie, because all my male friends cried when they saw The Notebook.
Plus my mum was there [haven't come out to her yet] and going on about "why don't you want some thing pretty and lacy and" so the torture was prolonged and intensified yet further... I had been planning to just come out then and there, and thus explain why I don't want "some thing pretty", but I didn't want to make things awkward on my sister, who would have had to deal with any awkwardness even though it was nothing to do with her.....
Oh well. One day I'll have the money for surgery to fix this unholy mistake, and I'll be laughing like a maniac as I cut up bras and burn the pieces. Perhaps I'll do that outside, though... smoke alarms tend to dob on pyromaniacs
