Today, my number went up. What number, you ask? Well, generally speaking, women* keep a running tally in their heads of the people who have seen them naked after they hit sexual maturity. My list is kept so I know who I need to kill when I bump off Scarlett Johansson and steal her body so no one can give away my secret.
Before you start in with comments like, "Heeeeey, someone got laaaaaid! Woohoo! Congrats! Perhaps now you will not be so crabby, you grown-over-vagina-bitch!", an important clarification must be made. This person, far from being a new lover, was the little old Korean lady at the tailors.
Because apparently, in her world, people are able to change completely out of a street outfit and into a big damn fancy gown in thirty seconds. Perhaps anime has misled us both, wherein all you have to do to perform a full costume change is utter a secret word and the transformation sequence is initiated, and from start to finish, takes about ten seconds.
I heard her approach. I quickly and loudly uttered "no no no no no no NOOOOO!" like Darth Vader with a stutter. She whipped the curtain open and gasped. I huddled in a ball of naked me and powder blue satin and wanted to die.
We both pretended that it did not happen, as I stood on a box in the dress and my new pinchy heels which ALSO show toe cleavage (on that note, I am fucking giving up. The shoe manufacturers have won. I hate you, shoe manufacturers!) and she determined where the dress should be hemmed.
She then determined that the cost of sewing two straight lines is fifty dollars. I have decided that either she has tacked on some sort of "noooooo, I has seen you naked, my eeeeeyessss, it BURNS US" surcharge, or tailoring is a racket I need to get into. Forget about being a mafia princess--who needs that kind of hassle when the tailoring going rate is approximately six hundred dollars an hour?
*If you are a woman and do not do this, I apologize for making you sound like some sort of crazy 'naked tally lady'. Really.
Before you start in with comments like, "Heeeeey, someone got laaaaaid! Woohoo! Congrats! Perhaps now you will not be so crabby, you grown-over-vagina-bitch!", an important clarification must be made. This person, far from being a new lover, was the little old Korean lady at the tailors.
Because apparently, in her world, people are able to change completely out of a street outfit and into a big damn fancy gown in thirty seconds. Perhaps anime has misled us both, wherein all you have to do to perform a full costume change is utter a secret word and the transformation sequence is initiated, and from start to finish, takes about ten seconds.
I heard her approach. I quickly and loudly uttered "no no no no no no NOOOOO!" like Darth Vader with a stutter. She whipped the curtain open and gasped. I huddled in a ball of naked me and powder blue satin and wanted to die.
We both pretended that it did not happen, as I stood on a box in the dress and my new pinchy heels which ALSO show toe cleavage (on that note, I am fucking giving up. The shoe manufacturers have won. I hate you, shoe manufacturers!) and she determined where the dress should be hemmed.
She then determined that the cost of sewing two straight lines is fifty dollars. I have decided that either she has tacked on some sort of "noooooo, I has seen you naked, my eeeeeyessss, it BURNS US" surcharge, or tailoring is a racket I need to get into. Forget about being a mafia princess--who needs that kind of hassle when the tailoring going rate is approximately six hundred dollars an hour?
*If you are a woman and do not do this, I apologize for making you sound like some sort of crazy 'naked tally lady'. Really.
skully:
this is cute, i just laughed out loud. you funny lady you! 
jhoneilmc:
hahahah. Well I have seen you semi naked. Where does that put me?