I had the most embarrassing experience in my entire life today at the gym. Worse than when I was 12 and peed my pants at the bank; worse than the time I sang shaky and off-key for my "I Will Follow Him"solo in the 8th grade choir concert; worse than the time I spouted off my entire high school graduation speech in less than 1 minute 30 seconds because I was so nervous. Oh yes, this tops them all.
You remember that H2O fitness class I take? Well, those old ladies know how to gang up on the little kids.
I arrived at the pool about 20 minutes late because Qiana wouldn't stop crying at the child care center (that's another story.) After a few minutes, the instructor pointed to me while I was struggling through the reps, and told me that so-and-so in the class was selling a really nice swimsuit for $40 that doesn't fit her that she found in a grab-bag she bought. I felt a little embarrassed because I wear the same swimsuit to every class (I still wash it after every class,) and I knew the ladies have probably noticed that. From my point of view, I don't know if I'll be taking a swim-aerobic class forever, so I don't want to go out and invest a lot into it; I'm fine if I just have one workout suit at this point; however, these ladies think otherwise.
I acknowledged what the instructor said, but didn't even entertain the idea of purchasing the suit. While in the line for the showers, another woman came up to me and told me that I needed to try the suit on.
(Hmmmmm, it was at this point that I started thinking that they had all spoken about me in particular, previous to my arrival, when the suit for sale came up in conversation.) So, instead of just politely refusing, I caved into peer pressure and affirmatively nodded my head.
Later, while at my locker getting dressed (already a mortifying situation for me every SINGLE time because I just don't like being part of the sea of bare skin,) four different half-naked old ladies came up to me and handed me a bag with the swimsuit in it. The ringleader told me to try it on. At this point, I could have just said, "Oh, no thanks. I don't need another suit," but did I? No! I caved again and pulled the suit out the bag, trying to jump into it as fast as I could (all the while having four eager, elderly spectators.) Unfortunately, there were about 5 straps to this "wonder suit" and I couldn't get it right; my legs were getting all tangled up and I couldn't fit my head through the shoulder straps. It took THREE attempts to get it right because I was just trying to put it on so fast that I didn't take the time to really assess where everything should go. Each time, I had to take it
completely off to put it back on, which only multiplied my embarrassment.
When I finally got it on, I looked up and noticed that a crowd of
9 women had gathered around my locker. Now, let me make one thing clear: although I like these people and enjoy listening to their chatting in the pool, I don't know but three people by name, and I DEFINITELY know that they don't know my name or story.
The ringleader, a nice British mum, went off about how lucky I was to be young and thin (it's all relative,) and pointed out features of my figure that made me so embarrassed that I grabbed my towel and tried to cover up. I kept muttering "Thank You, that's so sweet" all the while desperately looking for an escape from the mob of crooners. My instructor was the next to speak, and told me that I needed that suit and that it looked so good on me. If the suit would have been free, I would have taken it right then and there because I agree that it was a nice suit and that it fit me well. However, it was double the cost of my current swimsuit which is still a good, quality brand, and I just couldn't justify it. I responded to her by saying that my problem is that I'm a bargain shopper and that it was just a little too much for me to spend right now. What's wrong with that answer? If someone had said that to me, I would have dropped the subject altogether.
Not these girls. They started talking about the quality of the suit and that it would outlast any other suit I bought and yada-yada-yada. (By the way, I have the mentality that ideally, you should purchase the higher quality so it lasts longer and saves you $ in the end. However, there are certain financial times that it is not always wise to spend more... i.e. while in grad school.) I told them that my Speedo would have to work for now, and walked away. I handed the bag to the "seller" and said 'Thank You'. She had not been part of the mob, so she asked me if I was going to buy it. I told her "It's okay, but thanks anyway," to which she replied, "Why? Don't you like it?" This time, instead of dragging it out, I just said, "Yes, it's really nice, but thanks anyway," and I grabbed my stuff and darted for the door.
On my way up the stairs, I realized what made me so frustrated about the situation. It wasn't completely because they were all staring me down while in
le buff (though that was a big factor,) it was that they weren't very considerate about the cost. I was so embarrassed by the whole situation that my first reaction was to go into the ladies room and shed a few tears in private. Not the smartest thing to do, as I still had to go pick up the girls from the child care center, but it did the trick and I got the humiliation out of my system.
After seeing my puffy, red face, the child care workers were probably wondering where the therapy sessions at the Y were located... especially after the morning they had had with Qiana.
Vintage flower pins are stuck in there along with garden roses, Cattleya orchids, Queen Anne's lace, Magnolia leaves, dusty miller, tulips, ranunculus, lisianthus, hydrangea, stock, feverfew, and freesia. Aaaahhh! It was so fun to work with all those flowers!
I loved this painting as a backdrop. It was painted by a family friend of the groom.
