Why I love Tim so much...

Thursday is the first Red Dress Run, or the "Twelve Bars of Christmas while wearing a red dress whether you are male or female" run - sponsored by the Austin Duathletes. I'm no stranger to pub runs, but this will be the first one where everyone (both male and female) will be sporting red dresses. I had to share Tim's write-up of his shopping experience. Be prepared for a laugh! I can't wait to post the pictures. :)

Attempt #1 at Buying a Red Dress for the Red Dress Run
There are a few rules that I try to follow to make sure that I’m a man:
1. I always pee standing up
2. Every now and then I ride my bike with loose fitting shorts just to make sure that the boys still have feeling in them
3. I never say the words: “Oooh, this is a pretty dress.” When I’m shopping for a dress for myself.

Unfortunately, today, I broke rule number three.

There had been a rumor going around the group that if you wanted to get a cheap dress, forget Goodwill and go straight to Ross. I, having never shopped for a dress for myself at either place took this rumor as fact and went straight to the Ross by work while I was “working” to get a great deal on a red dress.

The first thing I noticed when I entered the dress isle was the sizes. What the hell does a size 6 mean? I grabbed the first dress I saw, held it up to check the size, and quickly determined that I was much larger than a size 6 (still, I have no idea what this means). I started wandering the isles apparently looking lost because the sales lady asked: “Are you lost?” I said: “No, I’m just looking for a dress and just realized that I have no idea what the sizes mean.” Chuckle, chuckle from the sales lady. “Well that’s why I’m here.” She said. “About what height is she?” “Almost exactly my height.” “And her build?” “Pretty similar to mine.” I replied trying not to spill the beans that yes, in fact, the dress was for me. “Ok, we’re going to need to go to the plus sizes then.” Great, a plus size, why the hell couldn’t I have a 6?

We entered the land of the X’s; oddly enough, there are very few red dresses at Ross, especially in the plus sizes. “Do you know what kind of dress you are looking for?” “Well, SHE really likes red. I thought that I’d get her a red dress.” We searched and searched until I find a nice one that is black, but has red flowers all over it. “Oooh, this is a pretty dress.” I say. “I don’t think that that will fit her, it’s only a 1X,” God this lady was getting on my nerves with all of this plus size bull shit, “but she could always return it if it doesn’t fit.” At that moment I realize that I’m going to have to try this damn thing on. This just keeps getting better. “Well, what if I tried it on, and if it fits, then we know it should fit her.” Blank stare, followed by a quick turn around so I couldn’t see the grin that was obviously encompassing her face. “Alright, the dressing room is this way.”

I lock the door, undress, and try to redress in the dress. This is where I start having problems. I realize that this isn’t your ordinary dress with a zipper or some buttons on it, no, this is some fancy wrap around thing with secret places to button it so that the most cleavage will show. I have no earthly idea how to put this thing on. So I put my shorts and t-shirt back on and go back out to ask for help. I find instead of just the woman that was helping me, most of the cleaning staff, and several of the other sales people waiting to see how I looked in the dress. “Uh, I can’t figure out how to put this on.” Everybody laughs, how funny, I’m sure glad that they’re enjoying this, I thought. The lady goes back and helps me fit it over my clothes. You know what, she was right; there was no way that dress was going to fit me. If I even thought about moving my shoulders the damn thing would have ripped in half (Plus I thought that it hung a little loose around my hips). Back to the old drawing board.

So we go to the 2X and 3X in hopes of finding something that would fit a woman that is similarly built as me. There are plenty of dresses, but not too many red ones. The sales lady finds one and goes: “How about this one?” She was holding up a dress that had a red blazer that went over it, very businessy. I look at it, what if I have to tell the Aristocrat joke; that style dress doesn’t go with that style joke or the overall theme of drinking all night. “Ah, no, I was looking for something a little more whorey, she has to ride a bike.” A little more whorey, she has to ride a bike? I thought. What kind of answer is that? That makes no sense. Pretend your cell phone is ringing, act like it is an emergency and get the hell out of there. I did just that.

So, I’m still without a dress and need recommendations where I can find cheap, whorey, plus size red dresses. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

Buzz