Yesterday morning at Jones N.Y. outlet, I was browsing the racks when a rather large woman came out of the dressing room wearing a dress. She asked if I would zip her up. Okay, this dress is WAY too small. I gave a perfunctary tug on the zipper, but the four inch surplus of woman made that unfeasable. I suggested(ready to duck) a size up.
'I've always been an eighteen, give it a good yank'.
No avail.
'Pull down on the hem, it's not sitting right'.
At this point I'm getting a little embarassed. I politely told her 'It must be the cut of the dress'. I wanted to bolt.
'Pull the sides together, then inch the zipper up'.
This is like trying to get a b.b.q. cover on a sofa. Where are the SA's when you need them?
I give the zip one more old college try, hoping a fire alarm will go off or a pregnant woman's water will break, anything for a chance to make my getaway. Of course, the dress rips from her hip to her armpit. Remember, I was just tryng to be helpful.
'Now look at that, and this was the last one in MY size' she says, disgusted.
No good deed goes unpunished. Just thought I'd share a wierd little story.-Celeste