Today I go to work in a dress that I love, but is probably a little bit on the short side, and does nothing to hold in my burgeoning gut. This is why I wear support undergarments. But since the dress is a little on the short side, if I catch a little breeze, my support secret will be exposed. This makes for a fun day at work, slouching, tugging my dress down, and hiding out in my cubicle.
After work, I had to stop at the grocery store. I’m getting out of my van and tugging on the dress, thinking maybe it’s time for a retirement party for this one. It’s done its time. It’s paid its debt to society. It still has a small and barely noticeable mayo stain about the size of a quarter from when I dropped a Whopper Jr. on my lap about a year ago. It is with these thoughts going through my head when I walk into the entrance of the grocery store. Heading out of the store in the other direction is a 20-something guy, decked out in basketball shorts and jersey, hat cocked askew on his head, large gold chain. He looks me up and down, literally LICKS HIS LIPS, and says “Mmm mmm mmm, you lookin’ fine TODAY.”
Seriously? Here is the dress – I’m telling you, it’s not that great. But I am rocking that variety pack of chips and the Izze’s. And a gut, well-earned, I might add.
I start laughing and say “Thanks!” and he turns around so he’s walking out of the door backwards, appraising the back view, and says, “Lawdy, you FINE.”
And just like that, the outraged feminist in me shut up and said, “Yeah, in this too-short-too-tight-mayo-stained dress, I am FINE.”
And you know what? If I can’t be super-skinny, I can at least know in my heart that I’m appealing to the guys who like ‘em real thick and juicy. So thank you, random semi-sleazy stranger. In some weird way, you made my day.