The body isn't cooperating. The mind is young, but the mirror is
rude. Makes me pouty. Temptation is everywhere. Stores filled with rows of be
young again creams look like I could shake a rattle again. I can erace
time, so I buy a miracle. I already feel better.
I'm on a roll. I decide to buy a slimming undergarment. I may be
bulging at the seams, but this product promises me
a "lifting sexy curvy hour glass figure". I definitely want
that. I'm almost hopping like Dorothy to the yellow brick road changing room. I
look at the garment. It's puzzling how I can squeeze into it. It looks like one
of my arms can fit into it. The other parts of me may have more difficulty, but
they are willing to go for the ride. One leg goes in and the other. The product
sits tightly on my thighs as my brain wonders how in the hell can it go
past that point. Breathe and relax. I start grunting, and I'm aware that my
face is turning red. This is turning into a work out. I give it all I got, and
finally pull the "thing" up to its final destination.
It's so tight, I'm doing some shallow breathing. I put my outfit
on top of it to see the miracle. It looks good, but my face doesn't
say the same thing. I look like I'm having a panic attack. The pressure is
intense. My head feels like it may pop off my champagne bottled up body. I
decide it's not worth it.
Instructions to take it off should be given to the customer before
she enters the dressing room. I can't get out of it. I'm going through my
second workout in the dressing room. It hurts. I look like a salami in pain.
Beads of sweat is trickling down my face. I'm almost in tears. Panic sets in
again as I'm wondering what to do. Should I call a salesperson? That's
embarrassing. I have a vision of them tossing me in the middle of their store.
I'm their blue light special of the day. Ladies and gentlemen...Today we have
our very own Houdini Salami to entertain you. I sit in the dressing room trying
to cope with my fate.
After doing emergency slow me down breathing exercises with
extreme concentration, I come out of my casing. I'm exhausted. The looking
young again adventure isn't appealing anymore. As I walk out I imagine eyeballs
are staring at me. I'm the beast with the loud grunts who finally came out of
the dressing room.
copyright diane sesler 11/16/2010
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