Monday, September 19, 2011

Las Comadres

“Aye, Comadre, you take the dressing room.  I’ll wait out here until  the other one empties.”
“No, Comadre, let’s share this one.  See?  It’s big.”
“Bueno, sí.  Okay.”
Muffled noises, hangers clinking, heavy breathing.
“Aye, Comadre.  Help me.  I’m stuck.”
More shuffling. “There.  Let me get the zipper.”Breathing. “Maybe they have a bigger size.”
“This is my size.”
“Sí, pero nowadays they use less material and charge you more.  Let me go see if they have it in a bigger size.”
“I need to exercise.  Me dejé.”
“No, Comadre, pero como?  It’s the style of the dress.”
“Comadre, por favor, I can see for myself.  The mirrors don’t lie.”
“We’ll go to the gym.  I, too, have let myself go a little.”
“Aye, don’t yank on it.  I don’t want to have to buy it if it doesn’t fit.”
“You can keep it in the closet as incentive.”
“I am not going to the gym, not looking like this.  Come to my house every day, Comadre.  We’ll work out there.  When I look better, then we will go to the gym.”
Silence.  

“Let me go see if there’s a bigger size.  That dress looks so good on you, Comadre.”
Silence.

“Let’s go to Kohl’s.”
“Sí, vamos.  You get more dress for your money there.”
Muffled noises, hangers clinking, heavy breathing. There is silence in the  dressing room  next to mine.

I take a good look at myself in the mirror.

1 comment:

  1. I love this story! I can just picture these two women in the dressing room. And I agree with them on the clothes...as a fan of "What Not To Wear"...blame the clothes for the fit or lack there of!

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