I am going to a hot tub night with some girlfriends later this week. Sounds like a great way to celebrate the first days of spring, right? Totally. But I have a problem: my swim suit. I bought the cutest swimsuit in Provo two years ago. The shorts are still in great shape, but the top is not so hot. I think the spray-on sunscreen I used last summer did it in, because after I used the spray-on stuff the white parts of the top stained yellow, and shortly after that the whole thing started fading and disintegrating and losing its shape. I planned on getting a new top for this summer anyway, and the invite to go hot tubbing with the girls just made me need to acquire one sooner.
Tonight was my book club night, one of the rare chances I get to escape the house all by myself for a few hours. I decided since I was going to be in Boise I should try the Swim and Run Shop to see if I could find a swim top I liked. I was actually going to check out the rash guards, something that would give my curves a little privacy. It would have been prudent of me to check their hours of operation before dashing out the door; that's what Derek would've done. I just assume places are open until 9 p.m. At least 7 or 8, right? Nope, this placed closed at 6, which I sadly discovered when I pulled into the barren parking lot at 6:30. I was cutting it close on time before I had to be at book club (and I HAD to be at book club because I hosted tonight), but I was determined to not come home empty-handed. I couldn't go after book club because I promised my man I'd be home by nine so he could play basketball. Six o'clock? What about all the swimmers and runners who work all day? How unaccommodating.
My house is not proximate to any shopping centers, so I have to maximize the time when I'm out and about. ShopKo was on the way to my book club meeting from the Swim and Run Shop. It was kind of disappointing to have to go to ShopKo to get my swim top, but I needed something so I headed that way. I typically wear a size 8 in dresses and size 6 in jeans, so I found a few tops I believed would be suitable and grabbed the hangers marked size 8 and headed into the changing room. Grabbing only one size was a bad idea. I learned that swimsuit sizes are not related to the sizing of any other clothing I wear. It became rapidly apparent that the size 8 wasn't going to fit--to make things worse, I wasn't sure I was going to be able to get the size 8 off. Can you imagine, stuck in a latex swim top in the ShopKo dressing room?? Who would help me? Well, the retail gods smiled on me and cut me some slack because I eventually freed myself from ultimate humiliation, and that stupid size 8 top.
I dressed, grabbed the bigger sizes, and headed for the dressing room again. (Notice the plural? SizeS? Yeah, I wasn't going to make that arrogant mistake twice.) This time I walked into a booth that had no door, and I spent at least 5 seconds looking for one before I realized the booth was door-less. Next booth. Tried on the new tops. Resigned myself to the fact these were lame ShopKo tops, but reminded myself beggars can't be choosers. Dressed again, dashed to check out. There was one register open and the lady in line had a cart full of odds and ends. Thankfully someone from the customer service counter called out to me so I could make a quick transaction. Swiped card, shoved receipt in bag, said thank you. Ran to car. Zipped to book club, and I was only five minutes late.
And I had a nice time with my book club, as always! "Life of Pi" followed by strawberry-rhubarb and lemon meringue. Life is good. Goodnight.
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