Lucas And The Time-Traveling Fog Party Animals

We handed one of the girls our purses and headed to each of our separate fitting rooms. When I entered through mine, I started to take notice of what exactly the girls had chosen for me, and they were the most colorful and bizarre clothing styles I’d ever laid my eyes on. I first put all the clothes on the rack and looked through each one individually to see which one I should try on first.

Now it doesn’t help when I have someone else’s reflection in the mirror staring back at me, especially when it’s watching.…my….every... move. It’s kinda creepy. After going through half of the ten outfits that are on the rack, showed them each one in order until I found the "perfect" one that will finally impress them and win them over. It was a plain pastel yellow flowy dress that looked very nice on Liz as I held it up to myself and looked in the mirror. Now, how do you put this thing on is the real question.

A few very awkward minutes went by, and somehow, I got the outfit on correctly. I was pretty shocked by this because, throughout that entire process, I didn’t feel like I was in a trance-like state anymore. Usually, this happens when it comes to finding and putting on clothes. This time, I was able to stop on my own free will not once but twice when I stopped and thought if I was doing it right.

Outside the fitting room, I showed the ladies the only outfit that I liked, and they didn’t like it one bit. The girls turned into what I like to call “The Fashion Police” because they would tell me all the pros and cons of the outfit. Like how it looks, feels, based on the material, but they mainly pointed at all the cons instead of the pros. After they were done ranting, one of them had suggested that I should try on the multi-color polka dot dress that they had given me earlier. Now, I tried desperately to make them reconsider because I really liked this dress, but according to the police, “It wasn’t pretty enough to impress the boys,” apparently.

Man...talk about a tough crowd. I lowered my head and walked to the fitting room in defeat and tried on that multi-color polka dot dress disaster waiting for me. It was so...uh....different that I couldn’t help myself not to cringe while wearing it. But soon as I walked out of that fitting room, all the girls were somehow in awe, like I was the new Madonna or something. One of them even said, “See, that looks way better on you than that yellow thing, it’s almost perfect...almost. All it needs now is a white elastic belt with a snap buckle to complete the look.”

I mumbled, “A belt?” as Court dashed to some aisle and came back with this big white thing and tied it around my waist.

So that’s the belt those girls were talking about, huh? Why does this have to be so tight on me, though? It feels like it’s giving my stomach a squeeze. After Courtney was done putting that thing on, she said to me, “Now, this is an outfit that would surely impress those boys in no time.” You know, despite how much I told the girls I hated this dress, I was still forced to buy it.

Now that I was done, the only thing I had to do now was wait for Margaret to find the perfect one, then I’d be free to go home and enjoy a birthday party where I don’t have to do anything. I mean, how long does it take to find an outfit anyway? Shouldn’t take that long. I found mine in like a few minutes. ...................Apparently, for some girls, it takes forever to find the perfect one because she hated every single outfit that the girls found for her. She let them know how much she hated them and demanded that all of us go back to the aisle and find a good one, or else we were going to another store.

I tried to stay out of this girl drama as much as I could, but I didn’t want to stay at this mall any longer and waste more time than I already had. I was able to convince her to at least like one outfit that we chose for her here without going to a hundred more stores. The outfit that I convinced her to even wear, which she ended up buying anyway, was this white shirt with yellow stripes and blue acid-washed shorts that honestly didn’t look bad on her at all despite what she may have said about it.

Anyway, when Margaret and I got back into our regular clothes, and we got in line to pay, I foolishly asked, “Hey, are we done?” To which she answered, “No, we are definitely not...done.”

Melissa chimed in and said, “Not even close. That outfit that we got for you and Margie was just for your date. Now, we just need to find some lovely shoes for the both of you to wear, oh and we still need to find something nice for you, Liz, to wear for your brother’s party.” Oh…I forgot about that.

When we received our shopping bags, the girls told us that they wanted to look at Kinney’s Shoes, which was on the fourth floor. I quickly looked around Merry Go Round to find some sort of escape route, but I couldn’t find any. Instead, I spotted a clock on the wall, and somehow, it was already 12:05 pm. I thought, “How is it 12:05 pm already? It feels like 15 minutes have gone by, not a whole hour!”

In case you’re wondering, I was fine going to a girl’s shoe store and trying on shoes until one of the girls suggested when a salesman was done measuring my foot size that I should wear some high heels instead of normal shoes or “flats” as the girls call them nowadays. The salesman who probably hated his job right now asked, “How many inches of the heel do you think she wants?” Tiff answered, “Two..no, three inches would be great for her.” I had to interrupt this conversation before it took a darker turn for me and said, “I-I-If it’s ok with you, I don’t really feel like trying on any heels today. I just want to focus on some flats.”

Tiff then moaned, “What, why?”

I said, “Because we are going to meet the boys at Baker’s Square, not some fancy restaurant, so I don’t see the point in wearing them.”

She replied, “I guess you’re right.” Then I saw her come up with a bright idea, and she said, “Buuutttt, what do you say about wearing them to your brother’s birthday party instead...huh?”

Oh man, I should’ve been more specific about the whole not wearing heels thing. But I guess wearing heels to a birthday party won’t be too bad, I thought.

Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? With that, I breathed heavily, knowing that what I’m going to say next is the point of no return. I asked the salesman, “Hey do you have any two-inch heels by any chance...” Tiff gasped in surprise. I continued, “In blue...my size.”

The Salesman answered, “Let me see what we have in the back,” as he left.

She said, “Love the color Lizzie but do you know what you got yourself into?”

I replied, “Umm yeah, I was totally counting on it.”

With a little smirk on her face Tiff said, “Good, so don’t be surprised when he comes back carrying a big stack of shoeboxes with your name on it...you’ve been warned.”

Suddenly, she just took off and left me. Some so-called friend she is. I was about to get up and find her but was stopped when I saw the salesman coming towards me carrying a big stack of shoeboxes. Looks like I’m trapped here then. I sat back down and had to wait for the salesman to open every shoebox for me, one at a time. It’s about as fun as watching paint dry. It just got more entertaining for me. Now, instead of him opening every shoebox one at a time now, he puts one heel on my foot….in the same slow way.

After the fifth pair of heels, I couldn’t take it anymore and asked, “Can you speed this up, please? I’ve got places to be.”

The salesman gave me a blank stare in return and answered, “I’m sure you do, Miss, but you gotta understand this takes time to get the proper fit.”

I groaned, “Ugh!” and crossed my arms while murmuring to myself, “Still wish you would go faster.” He then continued with this slow process to put every shade of blue heels available on my feet. When he was done taking the eighth pair off me, I was saved when Tiff came rushing towards me and asked, “Hey are you done yet?”

“It seems I still have four more pairs to try on,” I answered.

“I warned you this would happen,” Tiff said. “You gotta be more specific next time. But hey, did you at least find something you liked so far?”

I answered, “I mean, not really, except for those powder blue heels over there that really--”

She interrupted me and said, “Good, you’re buying those, and let’s go to Carson’s to find a dress for your brother’s party. You’re almost out of time before you’re late.” The salesman then took the box of the powder blue heels to the counter and checked me out. While walking and dreading the whole thing, I thought, “You know what? Since I’m stuck here as one, I might as well get used to mall shopping in a group.” With this in mind, I kinda like going shopping with these girls.

Inside of Carson’s, I ran to the first sale rack in the dress aisle before any of the girls did and personally hand-picked outfits for myself, where I tried them on in the fitting room, where I was posing and laughing with all the girls. I admit it was kind of fun. I think I tried on about five or seven outfits until I finally found “the one.” It was a dark wavy navy-blue dress that really complimented my shoes and the bow on my hair. I loved it, and so did the girls. After I paid, we left to go to the food court because it was around 12:30 pm already, and we were starving.

On the way there, we just laughed and talked about stuff that I don’t even remember what we talked about or why it was so funny, but it was. Now, as we were walking to the food court, I stopped dead in my tracks. I looked around, and this food court was completely different. There were a lot of food vendors there, and I recognized the names of them, but they looked very different from what I was used to seeing. I think I saw Burger King, McDonald’s, and a few others, but for the life of me, I couldn’t decide where to go. I mean, it’s not every day I have an opportunity like this, so I let the girls choose for me. They picked Burger King.

We got our food and drinks and sat down in a booth nearby, and everyone but me started eating. The only reason why I didn’t eat with them at that moment was so I could think of a way to make the clock go faster without the girls knowing. All I need to do is waste twenty-some minutes with them. But what should I talk about that would make any girl talk for hours on end? Makeup...no, that’s stupid. Hair...no way! Oh, I know...boys. I scanned through the entire food court, searching for one. Found him. The boy I saw who was ordering from McDonald’s was tall, had brown hair, wore shorts, and had a short-sleeved shirt on.

How I started the conversation about him may not have been my best moment, but that didn’t matter to the girls because as soon as I even mentioned the word boy, the girls were utterly speechless. So speechless, in fact, that I thought I was talking to myself again. Anyway, we talked about boys for what seemed like hours. It got to the point where I even got carried away, but when I finished eating my lunch, I looked at the clock and suddenly realized it was 1:17 pm.

I would have talked more. I would totally be late for the party. Hoping to end the conversation right, I said, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I had a blast shopping. Ugh, I wish I could stay here longer with all of you, but I have a birthday party to go to...bye.”

But before I could get up and walk away, Tiff said, “Wait...before you go, you should probably change into your new dress so you can blow your family away with the new you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll go change right now,” I replied as I grabbed my purse, shopping bags and walked away. As I was heading to the ladies’ room, I noticed that Tiff was starting to catch up to me. I stopped and asked, “Hey...Tiff, where are you going?”

She must have thought it was a joke or something and answered, “With you, of course, who else? Us girls gotta stick together, remember.” Wait, if she is going to the bathroom with me changing, then does that mean she’ll get to see Liz’s bre…I need to get out of here pronto!!!

Too late, we made it to the door, and I couldn’t exactly leave when she held the door for me. Now, when she opened that door, I couldn’t ignore the smell. Pee-yew! Gosh, it’s like being in the ladies’ room back at college but way worse. It was as if someone had used way too many Febreze cans to cover up a skunk spray...it was that bad. Regardless of the smell, I ran to the farthest and biggest stall. But soon as I locked the door and looked at the floor out of breath while wiping my forehead in relief. I saw Tiff’s bright red converse sneakers sticking out from underneath the door, and she was not happy as I could see her constantly tapping her foot impatiently.

The first thing she asked from behind the door was, “Umm, Liz, what do you think you’re doing? You should be changing out here, not there.”

I answered, “Uhh, why? I like this space. Why would I leave?”

Tiff said, “I get where you’re trying to go with this but let me remind you no one is here other than me, and there’s certainly no boy sneaking in here with us. It’s just us girls, so there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Ahh, if only you knew, Tiff. If only you knew.

Tiff continued, “Well, what are you waiting for? We haven’t got all day. Well, I do; you don’t. So, you better get out of there soon because who knows when this space will still be free.”

I’m going to regret this, aren’t I? But she does have a point. Slowly, I opened the stall door, rushed over to some makeup area that was closest to the front door, dropped my shopping bags, grabbed the dress out of my Carson’s bag, put the dress on the hook, and changed right in front of her as quickly as I possibly could.

I don’t know which is worse, changing in the women’s bathroom with someone like her watching or being suffocated by this horrible stench of hairspray products and perfume. Also, it doesn’t exactly help when Tiff made a comment to me when my back was turned, “Oh my gosh, that color is so you.”

As much as I hate being embarrassed like this, I have to admit Elizabeth does have some great friends that kind of remind me of my own in a way.

Maybe even better than mine because she just helped me get those darn heels on. She is incredible.

When I finished getting dressed, I put my...er her clothes in the now-empty Carson’s bag, grabbed my purse. I almost forgot I put it on the sink counter. But before we left, Tiff pulled me aside and showed me how to walk like a woman because apparently, she saw me “Walk like a total boy” while at Kinney’s. After that tutoring lesson, I thought I was scot-free but was shocked to learn that Melissa would be joining us ’cause you can’t leave any girl behind.

The walk to my car was so humiliating to me, especially seeing and hearing those two blabbering stuff all the way to my car. But my attitude towards them changed on a dime once we made it to my car. They told me how much fun they had with me and how that fun won’t be the same anymore once I leave. But most of all, they made sure to tell me that I said Happy Birthday to Tom from all of them. Now, for whatever reason, I JUST nodded. That’s right, nodded, didn’t give them any hugs, waves, or even a simple “Thank you.” I just nodded and thought, “Wow, what can I say other than I did it. I survived.”

But as I was happily getting in my car, taking my heels off, and starting to drive away, something seemed wrong. As much as I hate to admit this, I really enjoyed their company. I needed to come clean and tell them how I really feel about them helping me out. So, I slammed on my brake and slowly backed up towards the girls, where I rolled down the window and shouted, “Girls, let me just say that you were all great! Thanks for everything...I-I-I really mean it and glad I could count on you. This was the best girls’ day ever, even though it was cut short! See you real soon...bye!” as I waved and drove off.

After that, this bizarre feeling of calmness took over and really put my mind at ease, knowing that I did good, but that didn’t last very long because I realized that I only had two and ½ hours before I had to do the same thing all over again, but this time with her family where I have to channel my inner girl once more.