Kids

Found here

Yesterday after work I ran over to Macy's to find something new to wear. I'm giving a seminar next weekend and there is nothing in my closet that I want to be seen in. So I browsed about in the women's clothing section, trying to find just the right thing: somewhat colorful, but also bit conservative and classic. There were all kinds of things that were drab, slinky, and that showed a lot of skin (and cleavage), but nothing that grabbed my attention. After walking through every section in the store, I finally settled back on the women's section. They put the larger sizes upstairs with the cooking pots. Go figure.

Just as I was getting ready to leave, I saw a manikin in the most beautiful green jacket and swirly, sheer overlay skirt. Didn't care much for the top, but I simply loved the skirt. It would look perfect with my black blazer, and I had just tried on the perfect black shell downstairs that would set it off. The ensemble pieces were hanging on a rack back against the wall. I needed a 14 in everything, but they only had 16s. What the heck. Maybe they run small. I scooped up the size 16 skirt. But the only jacket was an 18W. I would swim in that size. But you know, store staff usually put the smaller sizes on their manikins (have you ever seen a size 28 manikin?) So I went back over to the manikin and looked at the tag inside the jacket. It was a 16. That might do it. After looking both ways to be sure no one would question me, I lifted the jacket off the manikin and made for the fitting room.

Taking off my tired, old black pants and pink blouse, I put on the swirling skirt, and jacket. I looked like I had been dressed by a committee: nothing fit though everything should have (on paper). The clothes were pathetically huge. The sleeves hung down past my knuckles, and there was enough overlap on the front of the jacket to button it under my armpits. The skirt fit around me well if I puffed out my stomach. But that defeated the purpose of trying to look svelte. I'd probably do better with a size 14. But there hadn't been any out on the rack. Good grief.

Oh! Look at the skirt on the manikin! She stood facing the store entrance, looking out into the parking lot with vacant eyes and bland face. Her white arms jutted out from under the blouse that was half in and half out of the skirt. I had done that trying to get the jacket off her. I looked at the inside label of her skirt. Size 14. I would have that one.

The clerk was about 20 yards away helping another customer with a purchase. A table of sweaters stood between us, partially obscuring the manikin. No one was at the front door, either. Now was my chance. Unbottoning, then unzipping her skirt, I lowered it over her perfect hips and very long legs. I hadn't anticipated the heavy broad round base that she was attached to. The skirt wouldn't go over that unless I picked her up. Nope, I would be spotted. It needed to go up over her head. The clerk had gone the opposite direction to look for a size the customer requested. Up came the skirt, over the manikin's conservative little bosom. But wait--the skirt couldn't go over the arms. The clerk was coming back to the register and glanced my way. I tilted my head to one side as though I was sizing up an outfit. I was. I think the arms will have to go up so the skirt will go over her torso. But the clerk would notice a manikin with both her arms in the air. I started to move one of the arms upward and it came off in my hand. Horrified, I looked both ways and saw that still no one was coming in the front door. Down on the floor went the arm, and up went the skirt, over the manikin's head. Free at last!

A few minutes later I was taking my skirt downstairs to a counter in the jewelry section. "You don't mind if I pay for this here, do you?" I asked a woman so made up she looked like a Salvador Dali painting. "Oh, not at all!" she gushed. "It's fine!"

So I paid for my skirt and fled the premises. As I left, I turned back to see a mangled white manikin with one arm, dressed only in a blouse. An elderly woman coming in the door stopped short, staring at the manikin. "Hooligans!" she hissed aloud. "There's such a criminal element in this mall. I hate coming here."
I shook my head knowingly, "I know what you mean" I said, stepping outside into the sunshine.