Where did I put the hanger?
Wait...where are the other 2 shirts?
Where is my purse?
Where am I?
I discovered I'd gone to the wrong dressing room. Not wanting to waste time by putting the shirt back on, I waited for the teenage girls trying on bathing suits to start talking. Had they broke from their conversation weighing the pros and cons of each suit long enough to look my direction, they would have witnessed me clutching a shirt close to my chest as I poked my head in various stalls looking for my belongings.
I've always known the ditz in me surfaces near a handsome guy, but this time the cute culprit was a shirt. Which goes to prove it's not just the Tall, Dark, and Handsome that makes me scatterbrained and momentarily lose my surroundings.
Sometimes it's Medium, White, and Cotton.
4 comments:
You need to collect all these quirky stories of your life into an autobiography someday. You are too funny for it not to be documented for all to read :)
My favorite thing about dressing rooms are the conversations you overhear. Just because you're in your own little locked stall doesn't mean I can't hear you.
One time this girl was trying on a prom dress a couple dressing rooms down and she was the brattiest girl I ever heard. And she had her poor mom wrapped around her little manicured finger.
Too funny!
Did "Jeans Boy" read this before he agreed to go jean shopping with you? I'm guessing he didn't.
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