Friends, Slovaks, Country-people (because I'm PC like that),
The weekend has ended, and with it a series of awkward, embarrassing moments for yours truly.
Saturday was a nice, relaxing day of fun and festivities. It started out with shopping at Ann Taylor, picking up my perfectly-sized dress for the wedding, and then it was on to The Domain (aka heaven on earth if you're filthy rich and utterly depressing if you are poor...like me).
Actually I feel good at The Domain. If I start to get overwhelmed and hyperventilate because of the prices at St. Thomas' Boutique or Neiman Marcus or Juicy Couture I just poke my head in the Starbucks or Borders or moderately-priced Macy's. After a few moments reality starts to sink in and I get back out there into the wild world of outrageously priced t-shirts and socks.
We'd been walking around the Domain for quite some time, and after taking a breather at California Pizza Kitchen (where I ordered a delicious white pizza and was shortly thereafter forbidden to ever order around my mother-in-law because the cheese smelled funky to her...), we traversed our way into Macy's. Of course, once we were in the world of middle-class suburban soccermoms and high school students, we instantly found a lovely dress for Lynsey. I realized, 'hey, I have a giftcard here!' and insisted that we walk over to the shoes to match our dresses.
I spent a while in the shoes, going back-and-forth over a decision. It was at this time that Lynsey and Jana and I went our separate ways. I was going to stay in Macy's a bit longer while I waited for Daniel to come pick me up, and they were headed home.
After they walked off, a young man approached me and asked me if I needed any help.
"Actually," I said, "I would like to try these red shoes in a size 8 1/2."
"I'll go check on that," he said.
"Thank you, sir!" I said cheerily.
I waited around, and as I waited, Daniel showed up with Shane and Foster--what an unexpected surprise! Now I had a jury!
The young man who was helping me came up and had a pair of red shoes in his hands, "These are our last 81/2. I had to take them off of the manican."
"Wow, thanks, dude!" I said, truly grateful.
I turned around, tried the shoe on, decided it was a 'no' based on the feedback from my small army of men, and then handed the shoes back to the helpful salesman.
"I think I'm going to keep looking. But thank you so much, sir!"
When I came to face the boys, they were all looking at me with obvious amusement and confusion.
"What?!" I said.
"Did you think that girl who was helping you was a guy???" They asked me.
I looked at them in horror, "No, you're joking."
"No!" They all said, "That was definitely a female!"
I then turned a several shades of red, speed-walked for the door, and felt completely terrible for about 30 minutes.
I honestly thought it was a guy!!!
Later that weekend...
On Sunday morning I got up and got dressed for church, as usual. I decided to wear this cute little trapeze/babydoll style dress that had been hanging in my closet for some time. I mean, it was just SO cute and I had only worn it once. Why not wear it today?
I slipped the dress on, finished getting ready and headed for the door with Daniel.
Church went on without a hitch, and afterward Daniel had to stick around to help with take-down, so I stood around and tried to look helpful. After I had been standing around for a while a fellow female member of the church approached me joyously. She reached out and hugged me, pulled back and said, "Congratulations!!!"
Confused, I asked, "What do you mean?"
"About the baby!" she smiled.
"You mean Nicholas and Somaria? I know! Isn't it wonderful!"
"No, no!" she said, "I mean you! Aren't you expecting?"
My face went blank as I calculated what she had just said to me.
"I beg your pardon?"
For some strange reason, she continued to dig herself into the figurative grave I would forever see her in, "Are you pregnant, or is that your dress?"
Stunned, I stuttered, "Uh, no...I..I guess it's my dress?"
Her eyebrows popped up, "Oh, haha."
And then, get this, she just changed the subject and kept on talking to me. Although, I kind of wanted her to walk away and leave me in peace for, oh, say THREE YEARS.
I quickly sped through the small talk so I could rush to the bathroom and stare at my stomach from all angles and pinch the fat underneath my chin.
After church I related the unfortunate exchange in it's entirety to my dear and loving husband. He responded, "That is so strange. She said the same thing to me, and I said, 'Uh..yeah..Karen's definitely not pregnant.' Maybe I confused her by saying 'yeah'?"
I looked at him with mourning eyes, "Do I look like I'm pregnant!?!"
I bet you know exactly how he answered that question.
We cuddled afterwards.
Later, as I was reflecting on this horrifying experience, I reminded myself that I was, after all, wearing a non-form-fitting dress, stylish or not.
But still. Why.
P.S. That perfectly fitting dress from Ann Taylor is a SIZE ZERO, thank you very much.
I normally would never dream of sharing that on my blog, but the situation called for swift and resolute action.