Last week I went shopping for a new dress. It's been quite some time since I last shopped for an outfit. I wasn't looking for anything special, just something different to wear. Because money has been a little short lately, I went shopping at a second-hand store hoping to find a nice dress at a cheap price.
I selected three lovely dresses - three different sizes. To avoid further embarrassment to me, let's call them size A, B and C - A being the smallest. I didn't know which one would fit but I hoped it wasn't the C.
In the dressing room, I picked up the size A - a size I wore a few years ago. It appeared to be a loose fit. Quickly I slipped out of my slacks and sweat top. I held up my arms, let the dress slid down and popped my head through. Things were going pretty well up to this point. Next I wiggled a little while pulling on the bodice. I pulled, pulled...slowly it lowered onto my breasts. I pulled again. It wasn't moving. "Oh, no!' It's stuck!' I thought. I glanced into the full-length mirror to see a sight no one ought to witness. My arms were up bent over my head, the dress bunched around my bra, breast sagged just below the so-called supportive under wire and my pot belly protruded below. 'Somebody help me!' I thought frantically. 'Should I actually shout for help or just keep struggling?'
As I stood contemplating this thought, I pictured the salesclerk rushing over and fumbling with the keys. Finally she finds the dressing room key; unlocks the door, screams and faints falling backwards into the crowd that has gathered behind her. Two men catch her and gently lower her unto the floor while the rest of the crowd stares in disbelief at the plump woman in the change room who appears to be fighting with a dress.
'Oh, my goodness, spare me that scenario.' I begged. I mustered my courage and continued to wrestle with the dress; wiggle, pull, wiggle, pull, suck in the gut. I almost chocked. The dress had a tight hold on me. Panic began to rise. I pulled again - gently. I didn't want to tear the dress. I didn't want to pay for it! Finally the strangling dress released. I slid it over my head, let it drop to the floor and panted. After I recovered my composure, I quickly pulled on my clothes and bundled up the dresses. I dashed out and threw the dresses onto the check-out counter.
The salesclerk asked cheerfully. "Do you want these, dear?"
I ran from the store screaming, "No!"
Once outdoors I took in a deep breath and as I did I saw a beautiful sight on the other side of the parking lot. A coffee shop! Coffee and donuts - comfort food!
The next time I go dress shopping which isn't likely to be very soon, I'll have to keep a check on my imagination and memory, and just face the sad fact that I'm a little older and a little heavier therefore not as flexible as I was a few years ago. Next time, I won't even try to squeeze into my old dress size; the embarrassment just isn't worth it.