My high school fire alarm once went off when my friend T and I were in the bathroom putting on fat-suits. To clarify, fat-suit here means neon spandex unitards stuffed with pillows, topped off with side-ponytails, excessive amounts of make-up, and running shoes.
It was not a look we were particularly excited to share with the rest of the school. Especially with the portion of the school populated by hot guys.
Nevertheless, there we stood in the bathroom (pillows down the suits over our asses and bellies-smaller pillows for tits), horrified to realize we were about to stand outside with everyone we went to school with, looking like two fat German women prepping for an aerobics course.
I’m not discriminating against the Germans here, so before anyone gets too excited, let me just state: we were dressed up as fat German women doing aerobics because we had written a skit for our German class in which we depicted two schnitzel loving, bratwurst-gobbling women in need of a work-out.
The alarm went off, the school filed outside, and we had no time or choice but to follow suit. In addition, it was hot outside so between the pillows, the spandex, the 80’s porn-hair, and the blushing-I’m pretty sure she and I have never looked hotter.
No wonder neither of us married anyone from high school. Next time I’m in public and a fire-alarm goes off, I’d like to be in Victoria’s Secret after a strict six-month gym regime. And I’d like the mall to be full of everyone who had to see me looking like an idiot that day oh so long ago.
Knowing my luck, the next time a fire-alarm going off has any impact on me at all, I’ll be attempting to convince myself in a TopShop dressing room that spandex really has come back in style.