I had to buy fat pants the other day. At a bonified "fat ladies" store. Here's how it went:
I walk in. The saleslady asks me, "Can I help you?"
I say, "Yeah. I'm so freaking fat now that I have to shop at this store and I need pants because I'm fat."
Her response: icy silence. It's at this point that I realize that she's at least four sizes larger than I am. She points silently at the clearance rack of pants and walks to the back of the store.
Because the baby strapped on my chest could wake up at any moment, I hurry to try on as many pairs of pants as I can and choose one. It costs $50 which is depressing.
Then I go to check out. The large sales lady asks, "This all?"
I open my mouth to say, "I sure as heck hope so. I hate being so fat and pray to heaven this comes off before the pants wear out."
But I think better of it and just nod.
2 comments:
Why is it that the big ladies in the bona fide store all look fabulous, on another planet better than me? Is it because I've had so many years of skinny, I have no other grooming skills?
Bravo to you for buying pants. I'm still making do with one pair of jeans.
I would have died laughing hearing you say that to the saleswoman.
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