Ode to the Jumpsuit

I purchased a fabulous jumpsuit to wear for my birthday…and the mother fucker about killed me. Seriously, not even kidding or over exaggerating…all hell broke loose once the stupid jumpsuit was in my possession.

After I acquired said devil suit, my life fell apart. I come home Friday evening after a glorious night of working and I feel that something is off (yeah yeah), I ignore my crazy gut feeling and go to bed. Only to be woken up by a weird beeping coming from my dead fire alarm hours later. It’s been dead for about a month (yes, I know) and why it was beeping was beyond me, I as well ignored this too.

I’ve been dreading taking down my Christmas decor but today for some reason I felt compelled to do so. Well had I not taken down the stupid decor and move my couch to plug in a timer for a lame I would have not noticed this….


20140105-101741.jpgI almost died! And it burnt a hole in my amazing shag rug! I blame the jumpsuit.

Yeah, I know…a jumpsuit can’t be cursed…oh but it is.

As my Saturday continued, my near death experience residing…I decided to get ready from my weekly date night with my BFF. It was our NEW YEAR date and the menu included; fine wine, red meat and fancy attire. It was PERFECT for me to prance around in my jumpsuit. I figured she would be dressed up as well.


I arrive at my girlfriends house in my light colored sheer jumpsuit, afro hair, high heel booties and two sweaters because I couldn’t find the correct one. I needed her help, due to the fact that I just spent an hour (45 minutes longer for me to get ready than usual) getting dressed…I was over it! Plus, she went to fashion design school, I have a built in adviser at all times.

Take a gander what my BFF was wearing…don’t get me wrong, she always looks amazing but that little jerk decided to go mountain cute and not fancy pants. She was enlightened hours ago that we were going Truckee and it’s rugged and cold. She forgot to make one small telephone call and inform me of her change of attire (apparently she was too busy chasing chickens, literally…I have photographs).


We arrive at the restaurant in beautiful Truckee and my friend proceeds to parallel park…she failed miserably. Without even looking how close to the car behind us was… I shout her a warning, “careful, you’re going to hit that car”. She kindly tells me she won’t and then WHAM!!! Wouldn’t you know, she actually hit a fucking car. The world stops. My instinct is to run and hers is to apparently not even move the car forward, we just sit there until she asks me if she thinks anyone saw and what do we do. WE! We take our nessary steps (by that I mean, we check for damage (NONE)) and head into the nice restaurant.

The place is dark…terribly dark and I’m in a bright summer outfit surrounded by rugged sexy mountain men. We rapidly sit, order wine from a man that looks exactly like my friends married unicorn and scan the menu. Both of us order a $36 steak and are pretty much drooling over the thought of juicy red meat in our mouths. We laugh at her car issues and then to get back at me she reminds me at some point I’m going to have to stand up and go pee…and with peeing comes undressing my damn jumpsuit. I cringe at the thought.

Finally, our food is dropped and heaven will shortly be penetrating our mouths. We take a few silent bites which is never good for us. She then gives me this terribly sad look and I know she feels the same as I. The steak was AWFUL, HORRIFIC, WORST STEAK EVER, BURGER KING HAS BETTER MEAT. We choke down as much as possible and try to play, “guess this meat”, ultimately, we couldn’t take anymore and guessing the meat concluded into convincing ourselves we were eating cow dick. But the wine was good.

It became that time…the time I’d been dreading. I had to fucking pee. I look to my friend for empathy, none from miss mountain cute. I proceed to walk through the dark restaurant, passed dropped dead gorgeous rugged men whose jaws were dropped and the entire time the song, “all eyes on me” was blasting in my head…let me tell you they weren’t happy eyes. More like confused as to why I am in Lake Tahoe in January in a mother fucking neon jumpsuit. I was like a light bulb. shine bright like a diamond.

I arrive at the porcelain God, and just my luck, it’s a single room and I’m in a line. I’m on display with the woman in front and the woman behind trying to hold in their laughter. I swear these woman were professional snowboarders in their uggs and leggings with sweaty pony tails and large sweaters. Damn devil suit. Undressing was the worst. Literally, I spent ten minutes in that damn bathroom cursing loudly about how not convenient this stupid thing was. I return to the table after yet another long walk with gawking eyes to my friend….her face down…twiddling with something. She hops and and practically runs out of the damn place, telling me that once I left everyone was staring and snickering. great.

20140107-223151.jpg devil.

We made the journey home, laughing our asses off about how our date nights can never be normal. We decided to go to a bar in town where my attire would be normal. wrong (again). This must be the day that everyone dresses in dim dark clothing, I apparently didn’t get the memo. So yet again, I look out if place and now my jumpsuit has decided to make it look like I have a penis. Yes, it seems to be parachuting out. The bartender, a nice friend of my friend, is trying his best to make me feel better…honestly, it didn’t go unnoticed and I really appreciated it. But, I was over this night and this forsaken jumpsuit. We plow 2 glasses of wine and begin to melt and hysterically laugh…time for us old ladies to end our night on the town (2 towns).

Things I learned:
1. Some people aren’t meant for jumpsuits
2. I am one of those people
3. I’m returning the stupid thing
4. It gave me really bad mom ass…and I actually have a nice ass, that was disappointing.


I ended this post, and forgot to return the damn devil suit on Sunday. Welp, guess what happened Monday. Devil still in possession and my car decided it wanted to break down in the middle of the hood while I was on my way to work. A NICE MAN DECIDED THIS WAS THE MOST OPPORTUNE TIME TO CIRCLE MY CAR MUMBLING FOR MINUTES.
My father couldn’t come fast enough (yes, he saved me again).

20140108-152028.jpg stupid


2 thoughts on “Ode to the Jumpsuit

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