Hola Grandma

Yesterday I went into a store of one of my favorite boutiques. First, because I love their clothes, and second because the prices here in Barcelona looked a little cheaper than in the same boutique at home.

Straight off I saw a beautiful blue dress, a class act and perfect for both visiting customers and going to the theater. I have one a little like it at home, also from this boutique. So I was pretty certain it would fit and suit me perfectly.

I stood in a line at the entrance to the changing-room with a bunch of teens and twens. It was only then that I realized I might look a little out of place here. The radio was blaring out some state-of-the-art Spanish hit and the changing-room was being managed by two guys! I mean, they were right inside the girls' changing-room. At first I thought they were someone's boyfriends who had wandered in by mistake, but I realized how wrong I was when one of them charmingly showed me to a free booth with a disarming smile and some Spanish that I didn't get, but in my imagination was something like, Hola Grandma! Good to see you made it here!



I struggled into the blue dress to discover with dismay that it clung a little too tightly to these old hips and accentuated my bottom. Also, there was something weird going on at the front with the design-y thing they'd done on the v-neckline. I couldn't make it lie flat, and believe me, that's not because I've got big boobs.

The problem came when I attempted to get out of the dress. Arthritis in my right shoulder prevented me from dislocating my arm to reach the zipper at the back. I worried that I might have to call the smiley lad on the door in to help but the panic of that thought seemed to give me new energy and I managed to escape from the dress.

I handed it to Mr Smiley on the way out and he grinned back and hit me with another lot of Spanish, which might have been along the lines of Never mind, Grandma. They've got an old peoples' shop two doors down!

Unfortunately, I saw another perfect dress on the way out. Shoot, I had almost made it to the door when this little grey and black number, looking like a sweater and skirt joined in the middle with a little integrated belt, jumped right out at me. Well, nothing for it. I picked it off the rack, swallowed my pride and headed back to the changing-room.

Smiley Lad threw his hands in the air and laughed when he saw me again. Fondly, it must be said. Could have been along the lines of, You're a brave woman! I salute you - come this way. He whisked me off to the next free booth and once again I went through the process of trying to hang up all my bits - coat, umbrella, bag, glasses, jeans, sweater and t-shirt - on two tiny hooks.

Katy Perry's "Firework" started to blare out and I wish I had a little video of what happened next to show you. I don't unfortunately, so you will have to imagine it. It was like I was doing a little involuntary dance to the music.

"Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?" You betcha! I feel like a sack of potatoes!
"Wanting to start again?" I already did once, and I can tell you this is the last time!
"Do you ever feel already buried deep... but noone seems to hear a thing?" You're not kidding! I wish Smiley Lad could just help pull this thing down over... just down! I seem to be stuck!

"Make 'em go oh-oh-oh!
As you shoot across the sky-y-y!"
Struggle, struggle, swish, swish, jeez where is the neckhole of this thing!

"You're gonna leave 'em falling down-own-own!"
Oh no, oh no, I put it on back to front! Oh no. Should I take it off and leave it or try it again? Try again? Oh ok then.

"Baby you're a firework! Come on let your colors burst!"
I'll tell you what is going to burst in a minute.

"You're original, cannot be replaced. After a hurricane comes a rainbow."
I know. It's just like before. It's too tight round the hips and it accentuates my bottom.

"Boom boom boom. Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon."
I know, that's what I just said. No need to go on about my bottom!

I struggled out of the dress again and decided that that was my entire exercise for the day. I handed it to Mr Smiley with an apologetic look and he grinned at me once again and hit me with the Spanish.

Adios Grandma. Have a great day!

(Of course that's not what he said. All in all, he was as charming and helpful as all the other nice young men here!)