I stammered that I hadn't signed up for it.
They responded, "Oh, honey. We're doing this one for free."
They proceeded to throw away everything I owned and then told me how horrible the makeup caked on my face looked. Thing is, I wasn't wearing any.
Move on to the store. They did that whole 'leap out 'cause you're buying crap' (never mind that I never had that consultation beforehand, which isn't all bad 'cause I didn't have to stand in that 360 degree mirror booth. Silver lining, that, and no pun intended) Anyway, the awful woman handed me a pantsuit to try on. Of navy polyester. In a size 18.
I could feel tears stinging my eyes. "But I'm not..."
"Trust me." She was unyielding. "It's time you faced up to it. It's for the best."
I woke up before actually having to buy anything. Or having to face up to some cold, hard, awful truths. Or maybe they were only dream truths.
Right about now, I'm still not too sure.
Worst of all? I've only seen the damn show maybe three or four times, and not in MONTHS. Get the hell out of my dreams, you psycho fashion tyrants!