Imagine being in heavy, paper mache casing and everywhere you go you get weird stares as you are walking around a plaza just like you would any other day.
As you enter the store your ears are immediately welcomed with either “Top 40” songs or instrumentals and your nose is filled with the mixture of copious amounts of perfume and fresh cotton.
When you have a cast, you usually get really sick of people being around you but at some point a girl has to go shopping. I’d love to live in my sweats all day but a) it’s not the most attractive sight when you go out b) you get more stares c) you get really annoyed with the idea of looking nice d) your sweats will soon be worn out and you’ll no longer have anything to wear. I’m comfortable with my body but I ain’t going to go around half or full naked. I also have too much pride to go out looking like I have a rat’s nest on top of my head and have a face of a veteran crack head to show the world.
The once annoying sales people are still annoying but the idea of being offered a shopping bag sounds amazing to you now. Before, most of use enjoy carrying the hangers so we can debate if we really want to try on a piece by the time we make it to the dressing room. Instead, it process is near to impossible with only one useful hand.
Yes, I’ve tried to hang the hangers on my cast.
No, it did not work.
Yes, I was churning my brain to find a way NOT to use those dinky looking bags.
The dressing room is a pain on it’s own level because you have to wait to use a damn stall. Again, you get a weird stare at your cast or a smug look illustrating the fact that the salesperson enjoys the fact that you’re restricted to a heavy casing and you’re about to try to undress and re-dress yourself on your own. In my mind, belying that you care just makes you look a big, fat bigot to handicapped people. You gotta enjoy being mendacious if you want to fake a smile or sympathetic look to my face. Some of us actually know when you fake it.
Proceed to confide into the small cubicle of a dressing stall that reminds you of a bathroom stall and tactfully undress yourself. The “pants dance” kind of helps if you can manage to unbutton your pants. I felt like a bloated whale because I couldn’t button my damn pants for the life of me. Who knew I’d find it irritating to take off my pants when I wasn’t on my period or trying to have a quickie with a lover before both of us are no longer horny nor have the time to actually do anything without having to deal with consequences. Button up shirts brought the bellicose nature in me because I ain’t about to spend time to button each and every last one of those buttons just to undo them and repeat the same long task when I go shopping.
I stand in front a mirror in my wonderful underwear and just stare at the rack of clothes I managed to pick out. My mind will pause and start to formulate conflicting thoughts of actually proceeding to try on all the pieces or to just put your clothes back on.
Do I really want to try this shirt on? But it’s such a cute design and I really like the color.
Can my arm fit in the sleeve hole? I think I can squeeze it in…I’ll make it fit damn it.
Why is my cast so big?! This is shirt is cute if I didn’t have this giant, red hazard sign of an arm.
Pants…oh pants, oh pants, oh pants, how I loathe thee yet I adore thee. *pants dance* NOOO why must you be so big thighs why? ; A; okay, if I can just get it up to my butt cheeks then I’ll start jumping… Please go over my hump, please? Okay, now to close this… I should be able to fit into these pants when I can button them after my cast is off right? (blank stare at self)
These thoughts will progressively get worse depending on what you’re trying on and how short your patience is. After trying on everything, you have to organize which items and make your way to the cashier while hoping there is no ridiculous line because you just spent a good 30 minutes in a damn stall.
Lingerie/underwear shopping is a bigger pain. Unless you have the ability to completely ignore a giant cast while trying on some underwear and/or lingerie, you will be completely turned off. No matter how lacy, skanky, or sheer your lingerie is, there is absolutely nothing sexy about having a cast. Then as you are worrying about what kind of lingerie you should get, the thought of your man trying to rip it off your body without getting clunked on the head or balls by your cast just discourages you from even wanting sexy time. You eventually learn to block out that the cast is even there if you reach a point of sexual frustration where you really just don’t give a fuck anymore until you’ve been satisfied. That should last you for a day maybe unless your man is terrible in bed or one of you gets hurt. In that case, it’s recommended that you refrain from any sexual activity until it assured that neither of you will get hurt or it is ensured that both of ya’ll will get your climax.