Very interesting documentary – insight into Mexican circus
Well that’s how I started wearing dark colored dresses
It was a great day; or so I thought.
It was a Friday and as always I started it with eagerness of a kid. I like making my Friday great because I believe that if my Friday turns out good, the rest of my working week is going to be as good.
So, that Friday I woke up very optimistic. I was not going to be late for work because I woke up even before the alarm buzzed. I took my shower, dressed for work, drank my coffee and then took off for work.
At work, everything went as normal as can be. Fridays are always busy and it was alright because when you are busy, time in office flies and you eagerly wait for Friday after work party. Well I always wait for those crazy nights.
That day, my mood was really positive. I was wearing my new off-white cocktail dress. I bought it just two weeks ago as a birthday gift for myself. It was really a nice looking half-sleeved short dress and I always match my party dresses with my dark blue bag and shoes. When I looked in the mirror that morning, I was so pleased with my teenage look. I felt so proud of how my outfit matched my accessories. I looked as I intended; a young professional with a mission.
Going back to work, people also noticed my beautiful dress and commented on it. My office best friend even said that she’d try to find one like it but in pink. I told her that I’d bring her to the shop where I got it and we made a date to go shopping the next weekend.
As I mentioned above, the day went well. Lunch came and I had pizza and lasagna. Yes, I do not go on a strict diet as I have a good metabolism. No matter how much I eat, I simply do not get fat. I guess, you can say I am very lucky on that account.
As the day was about to end, we got a great news from our supervisor. We met the previous month’s quota and the higher ups decided to give us nice bonus. Everyone was really ecstatic, including me. I really could use a bonus; rent due is coming and I also need to get a new phone.
As if the day couldn’t be any better, pour superior also announced that she would like to invite us all to dinner to celebrate. I was about to decline as I want to be home early, but my best friend convinced me to go with them and so I did.
After work, we went to a fancy restaurant just a few blocks from our building. It was an establishment that I have never been into. It was so fancy that I thought the food would be too expensive for me to afford.
Apparently, my thoughts were wrong. The restaurant may look fancy and classy, but it offers delicious and highly affordable food selection.
For the group (there were 12 of us), our supervisor ordered starters of the house soup, Ballyhoura mushrooms, and cheese and olives. The main course was composed of rib eye steak, salmon roulade, and lobster. The dessert was mouth-watering lava cake. It was one of the best three-course meal I have ever had. The fact that it was free and was the result of all our hard work made that meal really special for all of us.
Everyone was really happy, and to prolong that magical moment (because we all couldn’t seem to get enough of the day) we also ordered coffee before we all go home. It was the best cup of coffee I had.
When our boss was about to pay for the food we had, my best friend asked me to accompany her to the powder room. I was also ready to go, I need to freshen up.
As I stood up and was about to turn to go to the powder room, someone bumped into me. It was a waiter carrying a tray with two servings of red wine. And what can you expect from such a collision? Yes, the wine that was once in the glasses was suddenly all over me – all over my new pretty white dress.
I squealed in surprise and then almost cried in dismay. It was a good dress. A beautiful one. My birthday gift for myself. And then, with just a simple accident, it was ruined.
The waiter was very apologetic and much as I wanted to scream at him for ruining my top and my evening – not to mention of the possibility of ruining the rest of my week – I tried to control myself.
I knew then, that it was not the waiter’s fault. I guess I was so ready to go that I did not check if someone was coming from behind me. Still though, I reasoned out that since my back was on the waiter, he should be the one who tried to avoid me and the collision.
I heard my companions saying that it was a total accident and it was neither mine or the waiter’s fault. I looked at the waiter and could see that he was a young man and he was about to cry.
My dismay turned into pity. In my mind I was thinking, here is this young man (probably in college trying to earn for his studies) simply doing his job and is probably scared to hell of losing his job. And there was worrying about a dress that I could easily replace.
To calm the waiter down (because I could already see panic in his eyes as the restaurant manager talked to him) I finally spoke up. I said, it’s alright, it was not the waiter’s fault. I also said that he should not be punished. My companions smiled at me and approved of what I said. I felt better then.
That day, though may have ended in disaster, made me realize something significant; no matter how much you love what you are wearing, it could not be any more important than another person’s well-being.
I learned another good lesson too; whites are magnets for disaster. And so, after that day, I started wearing dark colored dresses; just to be sure.
A woman’s dress should be like a barbed-wire fence: serving its purpose without obstructing the view.