In the past few days, the temps have dipped and dived along with any hope that we’ll see another warm day before July. And, like always, the stores respond to the colder weather by cranking up the heat to the temperature Hell. I'm warning you: If you live in a warm climate and are planning a trip North for the holidays, be sure to pack clothes designed to wick away moisture. And if you're planning to shop while you're here, consider midriffs.
Take me for example; I probably lost three pounds of water weight while doing errands this morning. I forgot to heed my own warning so when getting dressed , I thoughtlessly pulled on a flimsy, capped-sleeved t-shirt and a heavy, cable-knit sweater. Then I topped it off with a down jacket. And then I left for a morning filled with shopping and perspiring.
After spending a few minutes in the first store on my errand list, I thought I’d gone through menopause. My body was overheating so I took off my winter coat, but I was still too warm so I shrugged off my sweater. STILL I was soooo hot, however, I stopped stripping down at my flimsy, capped-sleeved t-shirt. Where are my modesty points?
[For the second half of this winter clothing parable, I should mention I have a large, blue tattoo of a fish that runs from the crook of my elbow up to my armpit. And when I wear a flimsy, capped-sleeved t-shirt, everyone and a Russian satellite can see my tattoo]
Scene: Checking out at the first store's register.
Young Cashier: Looks like your tattoo needs some work. Maybe some filling in or something.
Old Me: Huh? Oh yeah. [Stupid winter, stupid heat, stupid tattoo.]
Young Cashier: So. Yeah.
Old Me: Actually...[Why don’t I just shut-up already?] I already had one laser treatment to lighten it up. [Now please give me my change so I can go and lay my t-shirted self on the cold, parking-lot asphalt until the hypothermia sets in and I drift into unconsciousness.]
Young Cashier: Did it hurt?
Old Me: What hurt, getting my tattoo? Maybe...it was a long time ago. I really don’t remember.
Young Cashier: You don’t remember?
No, I didn't remember, so I told her so. I also told her that since getting my tattoo, I’ve gone through three painful childbirths so, no, I really didn't remember.
And yes, I went there because that conversation hadn’t already been awkward enough.