Marty says with his hands folded over his chest. He towers over Mel, who is sitting next to him in the middle of a swank shop. Either way, I need a dress for my next tryst. I’m still waiting to hear back if it will be with Sean or not. My stomach is twisting in knots. I don’t feel like shopping, but I had hoped that it would distract me. Since Mel and Marty disagree on everything, it’s been an interesting evening. “How can you say that?” Mel says exasperated. This is the seventh dress, the seventh pair of shoes, the seventh set of accessories that I’ve put on over the last hour and a half. “Look at how tiny her waist looks in that thing. That is THEE dress.” Marty gets up and stands next to me. I’m on a little riser, standing in front of a mirror. The shop attendant looks at me, but says nothing. Marty points to my hips, “True enough, but it does nothing for this region and her boobs! My God, she looks like she’s nursed sixteen children.
