I went to buy a pair of jeans today. Now I am shrinking a bit I thought that the dressing room mirrors could hold no further horrors for me. Oh dear. How wrong can you be?
I found a pair of jeans that I liked and tried them on. Fitted on the waist (tick), fitted on the bum (tick). Fitted on the hips (tick). I paraded out of the changing room where Hubby was slumped in a chair. I woke him. What do you think? I said. Yeah, he said, with all the enthusiasm of a man being asked if he wanted a vasectomy without an anaesthetic.
So I went back into the changing room, and did a little twirl, and that’s when it happened. I caught sight of my face.
I looked in the mirror and this middle aged old biddy looked back at me. I checked behind me just in cast the local nutter had got in there. Well she had as it happens, but there WAS only me in there.
I looked at the wrinkles, the eyes that are starting to show signs of bags, the neck that is getting a little saggy, and the air went out of me Pfft. No, I didn’t make a farting noise and fly around the room. I was way too depressed for that!
I took off the jeans, and went back out to Hubby. Are you getting them then? He said.
No, I said. Why not? They’re fine. I know, I agreed but I look old. Eh? He shook his head in bewilderment. What are you on about? My face, I said, I look old, and it’s horrible. He silently handed the jeans back to the equally confused assistant. “I thought they looked great? She said. “so did I sighed Hubby, but apparently they make her face look old. Then he took me by the hand and led me out of the shop.
Where are we going? I asked. To the pub said he. Well how will that help? I asked.
Beer goggles he said. After two or three large drinks, you can go into the loo at the pub and trust me, you’ll be amazed how young and attractive you look.
How do you know that will work? I asked.
Well, he said. It’s works for me!
