Yes, this skirt had magical powers.
The crazy thing was, that I tried to wear this skirt at least (at LEAST) twice a week. My mom hated that. Sometimes she'd try to hide it from me, but I had mad polka dot seeking skills, and I always found it.
Anyway, one day I'm getting dressed after gym class, and one of the girls in gym class (Amanda) asks me to try it on.
Knowing how beautiful, how magical, how fucking perfect my polka dots are, I indulge her. I hand over the skirt.
She tries it on, loves it, and seeing it on her oversized hips, I worry about my skirt. Is she stretching it out? Probably. Then, she utters the words that seal her doom. "Hey, Sal, I think we're the same size!!!" I choke out some response, but in my 11 year old head, I think "Bitch, please. Stick with your excuses of being big-boned. Your grandma was a fucking dinosaur."
She tries taking it off, but Oh, sweet, sweet Lord, my skirt is stuck. On her fucking body.
I run over to her, and as she's trying to yank it down, over her butt, I help her. I pull extra hard. No dice. Then, I decide to try yanking it over her boobs. No dice.
She probably would've given up long before I did, but I keep yanking. Over, then under. Over, then under. She finally says "Sal, I'm going to be late for class. SAL!!! You're hurting me!" (Damn straight! That's my sexy skirt, bitch!)
I yell at her "What the shit! ( I never said fuck back then) What about my skirt! It won't come off you. I KNEW it was too tight! Shit!"
About this time, our coaching assistant, aka, the big bad lesbian, hears us yelling. She sees the skirt, recognizes an exercise in futility, and comes back with a scissors.
She cuts the skirt off of Amanda. Before she did, I remember asking her if there was any other option. Maybe even cutting Amanda's tatas off. I didn't say it out loud, but the thought was implied. My pleas reminded me of a scene in Old Yeller. Only, I could never apply scissors to that beautiful cloth. No way.
I feel tears now, just thinking of those beautiful polka dots, and their death.
I was talking to my friend Jara the other night, and I mentioned the skirt. Knowing how I am, he made me tell the whole (horrible) story. When I got to the part about not being able to yank it off of Amanda's body, he laughed really hard. I did, too.
I still miss those polka dots.
The end.
9 comments:
Haha! God I'm so glad I never had to worry about anything like that happening! It must suck sometimes to be a girl!
I hate Amanda.
didn't she know that you just don't mess with a girl's polka dots? damn!
haha that is too cute!
I can relate to the horror at the time.
God that is horrible. I kick that girls ass. I once in gym class got accuse of stealing a necklace. I had no idea where it went or how she lost but the only reason I was blamed, because our lockers were next to each other. I still get mad about it but she knows I never did it.
I didn't grow up attached to any piece of clothing, but my heart skipped a beat when I read "the scissors." Sorry to hear about the death of the polka dots. If you want, I can put Amanda on my shit list.
Oh yeah. She deserved an ass whippin'.
Your polka dot skirt is now immortalized. I'll bet the magic is not gone, either.
Mr. C:
I'm sad that you will never truly experience the love of polka dots.
Mandy:
She offered me a skirt later that week. It was denim, with bandanas. I should've shanked her.
Tennys:
I'm glad YOU know that :o)
Roxy:
It was a horror of epic proportions!
Anna G:
That's horrible! There were never any necklaces that were stolen, but one time a girl took out most of the snacks in a concession stand.
p.huong:
That made me laugh really hard. :o)
OWO:
Word. You don't eff up a bitches best skirt!
NWO:
I still have a love for polka dots. But no skirt has had my heart as much since that one. :o)
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