January 21st, 21:53 | Scene

It's dark out. The girl, clad in a knee-length dark wool coat, and impractical but pretty mary janes shudders out into the cold, walks through the parking lot, huddling into her coat and fumbling through her purse for keys. Having found them she climbs into her car, starts it, and proceeds to wait, shivering and watching her breath condense in little clouds while her car warms up.

The girl reaches into her coat pockets for her gloves and remembers that she'd forgotten them this morning. Fuck. Sighing, she grips the wheel and starts driving home, feeling her skin bond to the icy vinyl.

A traffic light. The girl is on her cellphone telling her parents she'll be there soon, and to please bring her mitts. She ends the call and speeds down the road.

Later, a restaurant. The girl and her family are seated at a table, chattering while poking food into Chinese fondue with insulated mesh baskets. We see that the girl is wearing not only thin leather shoes, but a bright green tube-top under a brown cardigan. She still seems cold, though her parents, both clad sensibly in thick sweaters, seem fine.

The finish. A quick consultation among the three establishes that they don't have enough cash. The girl puts on her coat, ready to walk to the bank and get more, shaking her head at her parents' unpreparedness. The girl's mother, fishing through her purse, suddenly realizes she does have enough. They pay, and leave.

The drive home. A quick stop for milk. They stumble through the door to the apartment. The girl strips off her girly shoes and revel in the warmth seeping through the marble floor. She quickly shucks her coat and scarf, running the turn on the electric fireplace. She flops onto a throwrug, feet against the fireplace glass. Her parents look on, amused.

That's right folks. No easy, normal family dinners for us. I'd like to point out the entire time we were at the restaurant, I would walk to the raw food buffet trying to hoist my top up if there were no waitstaff or customers directly in front of me. Once we got back, while I lay on my back, desperately trying to de-thaw my feet, my mom was alternatley laughing at me (and pointing) and trying to get me to try on this shawl thing she knit for me for work (it's always cold at Workplace -- I keep emergency sweatshirts in my cube; this shawl will be much classier). My dad, on the other hand, merely looked on and shook his head. There may have been eye-rolling. I was too busy enjoying the receding numbness in my feet.

As to the tube-top thing... let's just say that it was a happy-looking, bright green fiasco. At work. Involving much subtle adjustment at my desk and a coworker trying very discreetly to look at the ceiling at lunch while I noticed and, you know, covered up my cleavage with, lo, a might hoist of the top. (This was in a different restaurant (sushi). One we go to fairly regularly. One that many other people from Workplace go to fairly regularly.) Apparently the ability to walk and have the top stay in the right place is too much to ask of this top. Anyway, it was good times. I mean, apart from the mild embarassement. I figure it's alright; he's engaged after all. It's like he cares about my boobs merrily announcing "hey! check us out in this snazzy taupe bra -- way cooler than the lacy bright green top of that tube-top!" anyway, right? *sigh*

Any day now, I'm going to wake up and someone will have waved a Wand Of Classiness +4 over me. Any day now.

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