The first time I was to get married, I found a wedding dress I liked in one of those bridal magazines. This was 1985. I had some Chinese silk from my grandmother that I was going to give to a seamstress to make the dress, but I wanted to make sure I liked it, first. I found out that they had the dress at Neiman Marcus in San Francisco. So off I went, my little excited bridely AS self, to Neiman Marcus to try it on. I had NO idea that NM was a fancy store. I went to the bridal department, asked to see the dress, and they put me in a huge room with 50 mirrors and a fucking pedestal. I was given the dress by the saleslady. I proceeded to take off my clothes, in front of everybody, and belatedly realized that I had no underwear on. I didn't realize till I saw her face that that was a huge faux-pas. She couldn't wait to get me out of her store.
The dress that got made was gorgeous, by the way, and I've learned to be more careful about when I wear underwear.
"Is she gone yet?"