Wednesday, May 25, 2005

At Work

Jennifer, who works next to me, asked today for my impressions of her bridesmaid’s dress (one of her best friends is getting married).

“You don’t want to do that,” I said. “Really.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because I always tell the truth, no matter how uncomfortable or personally damning it might be,” I said. “It’s kind of a curse.”

“No, I really want your opinion,” she said. With that, she pulled the dry cleaning bag off the dress and held it up. “What’s the first thing you think of?”

“Um, a wind sock?”

“What?”

“Not the kind that flies at an airport,” I said. “The home variety.”

“I don’t like it, either,” she said.

“It doesn’t help that it’s watermelon pink,” I added. “If you were wearing it and standing up, I might have said popsicle.”

“I’m glad somebody else thinks it’s ugly,” she said. “See? I did want your opinion.”

“You’ll learn,” I said, returning to whatever it is I allegedly do for a living.

Site Meter