I dressed in locker room after showering at the gym. The seasons are changing here so I put together what I thought was a summer-ish after workout uniform but as I picked up my gym bag I realized I looked stupid. Leaving the locker room, wet-haired which is usual, I glanced at myself in the mirror as I walked by and wondered just what the hell I was thinking.

My pants were red with dots on them… silk pajama pants from probably 10 years ago and I had a comfortable (soft) loose but feminine black t-shirt which would have been fine had I not spilled bleach down the back of it - Oh yeah.

Worst was the navy blue gym bag up against the red dotted pants because you got it. Red, White and Blue, I looked f’kin ridiculous, like an American flag on the bottom and I won’t even mention the shoes.

I got to the front of the gym where the soldier was waiting having finished sooner than I did. I rushed up to him dramatically.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I said with my eyes like saucers. “Look what I wore!  Jesus Christ, let’s get the hell out of here!”

He laughed.

“Come on, man. I made a mistake with these clothes. We’ve got to move!  We’ve to move, move, move, move, move it before someone sees me!” I said with a grin covering my face. “I am sooooooooo sorry. You’re whole reputation is toast now thanks to me. Who will want to know you?”

He snorted. “What’s wrong with what you’ve got on? You look fine, P. You look fine to me.”

“I know, I know but don’t forget you’re insane so you don’t really know. I’d say, let’s move!  Shall we run to the car?” I asked sincerely.  “I will never do this to you again, I really won’t,” I said as I walked quickly to the car, the soldier following me and beaming.

Once in the car, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s okay we made it,” I said. “Now that was something. That is what I call a special operation… how is my hair, is my hair good?”