The Bathing Room Incident

The Bathing Suit Incident

When I agreed to go bathing suit shopping with my skinny sister-in-law, she thought I was being supportive.  I thought it was an opportunity to embarrass her in public.  What other motive could a size 18 woman possibly have for trying on a bathing suit?  The trip didn’t quite turn out as I planned.

We headed off to Macy’s early that Saturday morning, charge cards in hand. The most popular bathing suit that year, for the well endowed woman, was a one piece with a sheer skirt that hung from the hips to the upper thighs. It was supposed to be a Grecian Goddess look. Yeah, right.

When I entered the dressing room there was no one in sight. Not in the dressing room, not in the department, and maybe not on the floor. I changed into my Goddess suit and turned to look in the “funhouse” dressing room mirror. Besides the lime green color being awful, the “skirt” popped away from my hips. I looked more like a gawky, chubby, 5 year old ballerina than a Greek Goddess. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to embarrass my skinny and “proper” sister-in-law.

I grabbed the drapes and called, “Oh Jennifer.”

“What?” Her voice came from outside her dressing room, in the hallway. Perfect.

I ripped open the dressing room curtains, put my arms over my head, and performed a ballerina leap, landing where I’d heard her voice. When I looked, Jennifer was gone. Instead, there were 5 women, some with children and husbands standing visibly in the dressing room doorway. And, of course lots of laughter and muffled snickers. I turned around, like a good chubby, lime green ballerina and tried to sneak back into my dressing room.

The moral of the story is, if you want to embarrass someone else, make sure you can afford the therapy.