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After an upsetting experience at Vilebrequin where we found the perfect gingham (that's right) trunks, but couldn't afford them, we popped into Dolce & Gabbana. We pushed through the door perhaps a little more angrily than usual, and hooked a right. Immediately, we slammed very hard, face first, into a person. "Oh my God, so sorry!" we yelped as we floundered backward forcefully, getting tangled in our bag.
Then we looked up, and realized that the person we had smacked was... us. We had walked into a MIRROR. We turned slowly in horror to see whether anyone saw. Four gay D&G employees stood nearby gaping, mouths covered.
We shrugged it off, and did a dignified lap around the store, with four sets of eyes on us the whole time. The minute we got out the door, we fled down the street.
There's nothing worse than people laughing at your misfortune. Except, of course, when they don't. And when the gays stop laughing with you, you know things are really bad.
1 comment:
That really did make me laugh. Almost beats the time i caught the reflection of a handsome waifish lad in a sliver of a mirror in a very dark bar, and quickly realized that I was looking at myself. Embarrasing, but a nice ego boost nonetheless. At least someone was checking me out.
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