Trouble with a Red Dress
I have confused a colleague today, by wearing a red dress. I was wearing a red dress when she saw me last, walking away from drinks after work, a diminishing crimson blob on the thronged springtime streets.
She thinks today I am wearing the same red dress as yesterday. Thinks that I left the gathering and then was swept up, consumed, engulfed to the point that all I could do today was stumble in to work stunned, spent, without passing "Go" as it were, without changing my clothes.
I know the truth, but still I blush ferociously.
posted by ttractor @ 12:13 PM
7 Comments:
hmm, usually on mondays and wednesdays, I have the theme song from Fall Guy running through my head ("'Cause I'm the unknown stuntman, that makes Eastwood look so fine...")--there's a logical reason for this, I assure you. but today, my head's been singing "Lady in Red, is dancing with me..."
Thanks for the change-up. And the giggle (so you're not embarrassed/freaked out if you're naked in front of everyone...but if they think you were naked in front of someone else you blush? You're more interestin' than a three-dollar bill, there, ttractor).
Arg, I think you would look smashing in a red dress. Just don't do it two days in a row, or people will start talking!
Slick, they thought I walked out of belated birthday party for me to go have an unpredicted, completely torrid one-night stand...I mean, clearly I don't mind if YOU know that...but my staff? It's not the bein nekkid part so much as it's them imagining me fornicating like a wild weasel until the break of day part that embarasses me.
I watched a terrible movie last night, but one of its funny moments involved Kirsten Dunst staying over in someone's hotel room and then walking out of an elevator the next morning into a lobby full of wedding party people she's been hanging with the night before, and they start calling out, "Clare! You slut! You go girl!" &c. It's the fact that she's wearing the same dress that she had on the night before that gets her.
It's a bad enough movie that it's not really clear whether she feels mortified, amused, or vaguely proud of herself. She walks through the lobby looking saucy enough but then ends up in a trench coat looking like she's been bounced off a bus. Who can say.
I thought I had coined the phrase "the walk of shame" referring to the walk home wearing what is so obviously the party shoes, short skirt, whatever, of the night before. But then I heard someone else use the term, and realize that perhaps it is just, hmm, what is the word...endemic?
We used the phrase "walk of shame" when I was in college. It was particularly good when one's walk of shame involved simply going upstairs within the same dormitory. But it was also fine when the walk was the full mile of campus.
to make the true walk of shame, one must be carrying her heels, walking tenderly over the gravel parking lot, with a raging hangover, bed-head, and, of course, something slinky (and wrinkly). It is best, of course, when one endeavors to socialize, to know in advance when one might, perchance, be performing this most humble act so that one may avoid wearing underwear. because that's just gross.
of course, i've just heard of such things...
a wild weasel in a red dress.
"She was a long wild weasel in a_red_dress!
Just a 5'9" beautiful tall..."
it's some kind of disease I've contracted. I can't stop thinking of songs. Thanks again for the change-up.
oh god, yes. the moist panties are definitely to be avoided. glargh. although I did crack myself up once by actually peeling them off the floor. it was simply ludicrous and, well, delightful.
Post a Comment
<< Home