One Size Too Small

Can I see some I.D. please?"

Out comes my purse and I graciously shower the table in the Pub with the traditional pieces of plastic that human beings carry around.

Drivers Licence, medicare card, credit card, EFTPOS card....etc.

The waitress grimaces as she realises that indeed I am of drinking age, and goes to get my order.

Even today because of my petite size someone will gasp when I tell them what my revered age is. You know what, being small and slim has its advantages too!

There was the never forgotten day at that classy dress shop.

My choice of dress was a size 6. Oh boy, I thought, this dress is soooo beautiful-----and petite like me. I couldn't wait to get this delicate number on. I can wear size 6s definitely, and size 8 dresses are right up my alley too.

It depends upon the style.

Yes, don't count your dress-fitting before the dress is packed and bought and worn!

The sheer dress went on over my head. It was a tad small even if a beautiful match for me. There was a short zipper at the back. This baby was for pulling over and off.

Imagine my amazement when I did the usual. I gently gathered the dress at the waist and pulled it up --- up--- and oh, not OVER.

Wait a cotton-pickin' moment! This garment wasn't slipping past my shoulders. I had no idea that the width of my shoulders would be a show-stopper.

That's okay, it'll come off. Second go, but it was stuck. Size 6 didn't cut the mustard this time. The beauty fast lost its appeal. I couldn't see a thing as fabric muffled my face, starting to worry me.

How the hell was I going to get this dress off?

Rather than call a shop assistant to help, I tried again----and again----and again. It wasn't having it! Soon I was in poor shape, red-faced and distressed, and wishing that I never knew that size 6 existed. The dress was fine, by the way.

"I can't believe this, who would have thought? I know my size. Don't I?" thoughts tumbled through, as I wrestled with what was supposed to have been my buy of the day.

Time passed---and passed---and I then imagined myself walking out grandly to the shop counter, slapping down my purse and saying, "I'll take two of these, I thought that I'd just leave this one on."

I am a person who loves to save face (or embarrassment).

Furthermore, I was on my work lunch-break. Gee, they will be wondering where the heck I've got to, I thought. After all, I have been struggling for twenty minutes with this mini problem.

In the end I felt I had no option but to do what I should have done the very first time the dress wouldn't go over my head.

I fetched a shop assistant.

I was so happy and grateful that she was very gracious, even consolingly saying "this happens to people." Yes, to other people, it crossed my mind.

Well, I never in a thousand years, thought that it would happen to me!

There being no size 8 dress in the same style, and being rattled and looking bedraggled and shocked, I quietly slipped out of the dress shop.

BUT-------later, I looked back and thought:

"That teaches me to always start with size 8 in future."

No regrets, huh? An embarrassing way to learn to choose your dress size wisely!