Queen of Rambles

Last week I committed a “random act of kindness.” I find the term to be rather disgustingly sweet, given that I am a crabby old cynic, but I also find it amusing so I’m choosing to use it instead of saying I did a good deed. Wouldn’t my writing be a whole lot better if I didn’t stop and explain my use of each phrase?

At any rate, I did a good deed. I did something nice. I helped a person and it sort of felt good, but it also felt like I most likely was being conned and I really shouldn’t talk about it because people would laugh at me and say “you did what? Fool!” See, there was this older gentlemen, nicely dressed, standing by a nice car, looking panicked. He was panhandling for money with a story about getting lost on the Beltway, almost being out of gas, a dying uncle in the hospital and a wife with all his credit cards. I didn’t know what to do, so I gave him the only bill I had in my purse, which was larger than I would have liked to give him. He blessed me profusely and hopped in his car, looking relieved. I didn’t know whether I had just been duped or what, so I didn’t want to mention it.

I only mention it now, because karma had her wily way with me and now I feel more than justified in giving the man my ten dollar bill.

I went swim suit shopping today. It was not a happy or easy task and had me so frustrated that I was practically seeing stars. I didn’t want to drive all over the city, so I just went to the across the street mall which is not my favorite place to shop. I started at Sears. I hate hate hate Sears with a passion and don’t like to spend my money there, but they do have a wide selection of fat lady clothes and I was desperate. They had exactly three bathing suits in my size and they were all the ugliest, nastiest fat lady suits you can imagine.

I then went down to Lane Bryant, where I really hoped I could find something even though I’ve never seen swimsuits in there before. Apparently they don’t carry them in the store. I think this particular store must be going out of business because the shelves were totally bare and it was weird. Strike two.

After that I had no idea what to do. I wanted a bathing suit. I didn’t want to go home until I had a bathing suit. I was hot, tired, cranky and ready to spend any amount of money on a bathing suit.

I remembered that Lord and Taylors has a very large fat lady section, even though I doubted I could afford anything in their store. I often walk through their store on the way to the mall and I always feel like I’m about to be escorted out by the Ritzy Police because I clearly do not belong there. I will never spend $200 on a lime green t-shirt for my husband. The men’s clothing fascinates me because a lot of it looks like it comes directly from the guys on Z-TV, a young, hip channel in Sweden. Not my kind of store.

I was shocked, SHOCKED I TELL YOU, to find no less than seven really nice suits in my size. They were all incredibly expensive (over $100 each originally, though some were on sale for $55-$80) but at that point I was willing to suck it up and just buy something. They were all of superior quality and they were all very nice looking. They even had my favorite brand, Longitude, which is specifically made for taller people with long waists. I am very long waisted.

After much deliberation I picked out a suit that fit really well and is very athletic. My boobs are well trapped and won’t be free floating all over the pool. It was on sale for $78 and they actually had two in my size. I decided that I should just go for it and buy both of them since it is so hard to find bathing suits and with all the swimming I do I go through a bathing suit about every six months.

There was a perfectly dressed Emily Gilmore look a like in line in front of me, a totally put together rich lady who scared me. I had barely brushed my hair because I am just frustrated with it and don’t know what to do. My maternity shorts are ugly and my shirt was showing too much cleavage. I just hoped she and the checker weren’t exchanging eye rolls about this poor person who was buying two identical bathing suits.

Then karma came in and made my day!

This lady had some kind of super secret coupon deal for “members only.” The casher told her she could use it as often as she would like, so she turned to me and asked if I would like to use it. I jumped all over that and she made the cashier scan it in for me! SCORE SCORE SCORE SCORE!!! I ended up with two brand new, beautiful $120 swimsuits for a grand total of $65.13. That’s what I call a bargain.

I would show you a picture of the suits, but I don’t want to be unfriended and delinked by everyone on my list. My cellulite would traumatize you all (funny how it just mysteriously appeared on my 30th birthday). Actually, when I was messing around earlier today I heard Mike giggling and I turned around and was incredibly traumatized by the site of my husband strutting around in my bathing suit. I had the camera out and snapped a picture before he knew what I was doing. I would post it, but I’m not sure who would be more upset–those of you who would need to scrub out your eyeballs or my dear hubby who thinks cross-dressing is a private matter (not that he is an actual cross-dresser. He just likes to freak me out sometimes).

So there is the too long story of karma and fat ladies and swim suits.

This entry was posted on Friday, July 1st, 2005 at 7:00 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.