Plinky Prompt: Share an embarrassing experience.
Once, way back when (four years ago) when I was pregnant with the Mischievite I decided I needed some new clothes. It had been a long time since I had been pregnant and maternity fashion had changed considerably (from tents to tanks). I was pretty desperate for something to wear that made me look young and spry.
Enter the Arizona Mills Mall, the closest mall to where we lived and, conveniently, an outlet mall... that happened to have a Motherhood outlet.
It was a tiny little shop with lots of racks of clothes and lots of extra large bellies trying to scooch around each other. In the far back corner I spotted what I was looking for--"70% off"--and made a beeline for the overstuffed rack.
Music softly played in the air above me, women chatted quietly about different colors or fashions, and the employees smiled their skinny people smiles at all of us large, uncomfortable, potential customers.
The rack I was interested in hung from some brackets in the wall and was packed with skirts. So packed that I could barely get my fingers in between hangers to look at what they had. I had been to this store enough, however, that when I recognized a certain color pattern amongst the myriad of other patterns I instantly knew it was what I wanted.
I tugged, and yanked and tried with all my might to get to that one skirt I wanted.
A woman laughed merrily nearby. The bell at the entrance chimed as someone came in. I pulled at the hangers a little harder.
The sound of the entire rack falling to the ground reverberated across the little store and everyone turned to stare at me
Me... the big pregnant girl with about 100 skirts scattered around the floor in front of her with one held firmly in her hand.
They looked shocked. I felt shocked. The music jangled through a silent room.
"Well, that was embarrassing!" I managed to say to the staring sets of startled eyes.
The skinny employee smiled and laughed. "That's okay, it happens all the time."
I doubted it.
"Just leave it there, I'll clean it up."
I looked at the mess below me and at the skirt in my hand. It wasn't the one I'd wanted. I looked back down, my options were simple, dig through the pile looking for the one I wanted or leave... quickly.
I chose to leave. I calmly placed the skirt I was holding onto the pile of others (there was no rack to hang it on), then meandered back toward the entrance and when no one was looking I sprang through the door and waddled rapidly to my car.
I decided it was time to try other stores for my frumpy fashion needs.