Yesterday morning, I had the photo shoot for the book on creative women that I’m going to be included in. The author and photographer, Shelby McQuilken, came over to my house to take the photos. I wore a dress that called for a bustier rather than a bra.
When the photo shoot was finished, I decided that, despite the uncomfortable corset-like bustier, I’d like to wear the dress to work because it’s gorgeous, and summer is almost over, and I won’t be able to wear it again this year.
I was planning to go to the rock-climbing gym after work last night. As I was going out to my car with my lunch and my bag of rock-climbing stuff, I realized I couldn’t very well use that bustier under my climbing clothes. Owwwww! All those pokey stays. And it’s super-tight, of course. So I ran back in the house and grabbed a bra. Then, just on my way out the door, I grabbed a sweatshirt in case it was cooler when I came out of the rock gym. I kinda rolled the bra in the sweatshirt and dumped the bundle in the car with my climbing bag.
My day at work was busy and frustrating. I wanted to leave at 4:30, but two big things came up right at the last minute, and I had to stay an hour late. I was crabby and tired and frustrated. I almost didn’t go to the rock gym, but I had promised my friends I’d join them, so I reluctantly went. I got to the parking lot and grabbed my bag and the sweatshirt, completely forgetting there was a bra tucked inside.
I went in and signed in at the front counter.
I found my friends who were already climbing and said hi.
Then I went into the locker room with my bag and couldn’t find my bra. I remembered I had tucked it in my sweatshirt, so I trotted back out to my car, thinking it had fallen out when I picked up the sweatshirt. No bra. Grr.
I went back in to the locker room and dug through all my stuff. No bra. Grrrr.
I went back out to my car and looked EVERYwhere. No bra lying in the parking lot. I concluded I must have dropped it in my driveway this morning. Grrrrrrrr.
I went back in and told my friends what was going on. (They had several funny but not very practical solutions for what I could use instead of a bra.) I went back to the locker room, and took one final look through my stuff. No bra. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I was about to go home, but I REALLY wanted to climb. So I put on my humility as best I could, and went up to the front counter, where of course it happened that it was two of the male employees working right then. And then I told a little lie. “Um, I didn’t happen to drop a blue shirt and a black bra while I was signing in, did I?” (I’m not quite sure why it felt less embarrassing to drop something else along with a bra, but it did.) The two guys looked at each other and grinned. “Well, we found the black bra,” one said, as the other handed it to me, “but not the blue shirt.”
I feel I am entitled to report that I climbed really well, and that the embarrassment was (mostly) worth it.
Unrelated, unabashed plug: please make me really happy and go look at my Etsy shop, Magic Carpet Dance Arts. And buy something. I like sales.