Oh dear.


Punch

Maybe it's the new dress from J. Crew; maybe it's the, I don't know, half gallon of punch I've had to drink.

I'm filled with a sexy confidence that makes me stand tall, sway my hips when I walk, and flirt with that cute guy in the corner by batting my eyelashes fetchingly.

I saunter over, putting my 34-23-35 measurements to damn good use.

Elegant (in my mental vision of myself), I sashay towards Mr. Good-Lookin', confident that this time I won't mess up, that THIS time, I will have myself a date--

--until I trip over what seems to be perfectly normal-looking air and tumble to the floor in a heap of blue satin and four-inch heels.

Maybe, I think to myself as I try unsuccessfully to stand upright again, I should just stick to being the cute quiet girl who never calls attention to herself.





Words by WildGoose
Read 798 times
Written on 2008-07-30 at 05:54

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Helen Warren
:) nice write
2008-07-30