My blushing attempt at Valentines Day...

(CONTENT WARNING:  Slightly over PG rating...but definitely not R.   Unless R means ridiculous.   Been meaning to post this for a few weeks now)

Ahem...

Even though I'm more than few years past firm skin and perky body parts...

And even though I'm more than a few pounds past svelte...

There I was...

Shopping at Wal-Mart.

Looking for white socks for a Grandlittle.

AND!

An extremely red and black Valentine end cap caught my eye.

Cheap red satin.   Cheap black lace.  Cheap, cheap, cheap prices.

I mean.

Seriously.

Where else could you find slutty lingerie (And I'm not using the term lightly)  for under twenty bucks?

Granted, there wasn't a lot of fabric...

...but still.

I looked around and didn't see anyone I knew, so I grabbed two in my size and shoved them into my cart underneath the toilet paper and the giant vat of wrinkle cream.

In the interest of journalistic integrity, I should also add there was a teeny, tiny, package of chocolates in the cart, too.   And, no.   The teeny, tiny package of chocolates has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with the fact that I'm more than a few pounds past svelte. 

So.

There.

The registers weren't crowded so I just slipped the sleazy garments through and that was that.

Almost.

The garments did absolutely nothing I had imagined they would do.   Nothing looked ummm...uplifted or perky, nothing looked crunched in or sleek.   In fact.  Although they did make me look incredibly slutty the only person who would think I looked 'hot' in them would be a blind man, with no hands who hadn't been in the presence of a female in 43.7 years.

And doggone it...my husband is NOT blind, he still  has both hands and he hasn't been OUT of the presence of a female in at least 43.7 years.

So I stuffed both of them into a bag and planned to return them as soon as possible.

The day of the return I nonchalantly took the bag down to the truck and informed Mr. Jenny I was running to Walmart.  The poor guy didn't know how close he had come to being struck blind.

I breezed in the automatic doors and a wizened old guy said, "Wait.   I need to mark your returns."  

I held out the tied shut bag and he said, "I need to mark the individual items."

Individual.

Items.

GULP.

I untied the bag and pulled out the strap of slutty garment number 1.   He affixed the sticker...a cheerful little puppy.

Awwwww.

NOT!

The second slutty garment was not quite as helpful.   I tried to pull just a part of it out but the giant, molded fake red satin and lace bra cup bulged out instead.

Awwwwww.

NOT!

The wizened old guy turned red and started to stutter.  His hand was a bit shaky but he firmly adhered the second cheerful puppy sticker to the region of the nipple before shoving it back into the bag.

"Have a nice day," he said without making eye contact.

"You, too."

Wow.

That was an ordeal.

I was relieved to know that all I had to do was go to the service desk which was, thankfully, absent of any customers.

I handed the bag to the customer service lady who was probably close to my age and in need of something uplifted and perky and crunched in and sleek, too.

She pulled the first garment out and said, "OMG!   OMG!   This is soooooo cute.   OMG!   Why are you returning this?"

She then held it up for the second customer service lady who also said, "OMG!   OMG!   That is sooooo bad.   Bad, bad, bad!   You go girl!"

And I said, "I have my receipt and I just need to return this."

They had a brief giggle and then one rang up the return after carefully placed the cheerful puppy sticker on the tag.

The second garment was the more...ummm...molded one.  They went crazy over it.   I mean you'd think I had pulled Harrison Ford out of the bag or something.  They exclaimed over it!   They ooh'ed and aah'ed and then one asked me, "New boyfriend, honey?"

I said, "No.   Old husband.   I didn't want to kill the poor guy."

Apparently I am much funnier than I know because they cracked up for what felt like ten minutes.

By now several customers had lined up behind me and the two giggling customer service gals just seemed oblivious to them.

Finally they stopped giggling.

And...

Finally my clerk rang up the return and looked for the cheerful puppy sticker to attach to the tag.

She couldn't find it.

She got flustered.   "I need to attach the sticker for this return." 

I said, "Yeah, the sticker is right there on the ... ummm.... top ummm...front of the thing."

She looked again and finally located it.

"OMG!  OMG!" she exclaimed.   "I can't believe Lloyd put that right on the nipple.  You must have made his day."

Lloyd.

I'm so sorry man.   I suspect you got razzed about that puppy placement just a little bit.

Finally, finally, finally...

the return ordeal was over.

Finally.

Mr. Jenny got a candy bar for Valentines Day.

And that was, quite seriously, the best that I could do.

Sigh...