The other day i found myself in one of those chain super sports stores. You know, the one's with golf clubs, kayaks, clothing, baseballs, weights and....candy,yes candy. I'm not exactly sure why bright colored sugar chews are being sold along side thigh masters and ab machines, but whatever sells, right?? This is America after all, actually i'm surprised they don't sell beer. They would probably claim that it fits in with the camping supplies.
Anyway, i was not there to buy gummies, i was there to buy a tennis racket.Although, now that i mention it...ahhh no. Last week, in the middle of practice, i hit a forehand and bing! Yup, there go my strings. The logical thing, in this situation, would be to just get it re-strung but i forgot about it and then it was the day before i had a match. Thanks to my stellar procrastination abilities, my only option was to buy a new one. After much debate and trying to mimic a tennis match to the best of my ability in the store, with a racket that is covered in plastic, i finally chose a bright orange head racket. You didn't think i was going to leave after this, now did you? Silly, i still have to look around. In hindsight, i should have just bolted to the door while throwing my cash at the salesperson. No need to stop and pay, just GO!!! Although,it would have looked a tad clumsy, since i was pushing a stroller and all. So no, i did not leave immediately. Instead i meandered about the clothing section, picking up some random t-shirts, a pair of athletic pants and then i spotted a sports bra i kinda liked. I figured that since Jude was behaving himself, i might as well try this stuff on...fifteen minutes and i'll be outta here. HA!
I put the t-shirt on..."mmmm, yes, very nice if i do say so myself. Ok, i will buy it!" Next i put the pants on. "Awesome, thes are totally cool! Slightly 80's, but cool none the less. I think i will buy them!" Alright, i guess i will try on the sports bra. "Hmmmm...what is going on with this...seems a bit...tight for a medium. Oh shit...WTF...i think it's stuck. No, no...it can't be stuck. There must be some way to loosen it. Ahh, damn...stupid thing is stuck...GOD! What is with this thing!? Ow..i think i pulled a muscle. Yep, definitely stuck." I seriously felt like that kid from "A Christmas Story" who gets his tongue stuck on the pole. Stuck....stuck..stuck!!!
So this pretty much went on for the next twenty minutes. I attempted to rip it off, i tried sliding it off, i tried pulling my arms through the straps another way, but nothing. This thing was not budging. So i stood there thinking for a second about my options. If i had a scissors i would have cut it off but no such luck.
I put my shirt on over the bra, and tried to decide how i was going to approach the sales people. I actually wanted to still look around but i thought it was best that they didn't see me walking though the store with a security tag hanging out the top of my shirt. That would have just topped this whole fiasco, getting arrested for attempted shoplifting when actually the article of clothing was plastered on to me. They could demand i take off the bra, but, haha jokes on you because it's not coming off!!
So i approach the sales girl and told her that this thing is definitely not coming off. She proceeded to call over another sales girl who then decided this was a good time to tell me that this had never happened before. Hooray...i'm the first!Thank you for that. Oh and then she called over yet another person.... i believe a manager this time. Good, so now the whole store thinks i'm a freako.
In the end, they made me pay for it. Clearly i would be returning it because there was no way i would put something on again that doesn't come off!
When my husband came home that night, i told him he needed to help me take it off. I think he thought that maybe i was playing some type of fun sexy game...oohh yes, come help me take it off baby! haha...no, this was serious business that needed tending to. Good thing my husband was there or i could have been stuck forever!
I guess that is what husbands are for...to help you un-stick when you are stuck, even if they do look at you like you are a complete loon.