With that. The following weeks went by relatively quickly. Filling the many monotonous hours with daydreams of beautiful dresses tended to make the days go by quicker. My fantasies were entertaining at the time but from the perspective of someone who knows about high-end fashion. My taste would most likely be considered bland. 

      This was all a moot point. Considering even after receiving my extra works pay. I would still have a rather abysmal amount of cash to spend. That didn't stop me though as I walked home each day. I found myself paying more and more attention to the dresses shining in the windows. 

      "Marilyn Monroe would look good in that one. OHHH, I can just see Raquel Welch in that one."

      What I didn't realize at the time was that all of my inner machinations seemed to focus on some other pretty woman in the dresses. It's almost as if my self-consciousness couldn't fathom the idea that I may be able to bring out their full potential. Despite this, my determination wasn't hindered in the slightest. For the first time in my life, I wanted something because. Well, I wanted it. I didn't need it, and it wasn't going to improve my life at all. I just wanted something of my own that was elegant. Just like the stars whose phones I used to connect.

      I was no Elizabeth Taylor, but maybe when I put on a dress fit for a star. I might just feel like her.

      As the days went on my purse began to fill up with my overtime pay. My daydreams seemed to be less a dream and more something that may become reality. In fact, it just so happened that I found the very dress of my dreams at a local store. It was on sale, about the most luxurious piece of clothing I could picture myself in, and after my shift at the Magazine Publisher's, it would be mine. 

    "  If only these next few hours would go by a bit quicker."

      I began to get a bit anxious as I sat at my desk. I wasn't one to quit work early. If there was a job to do. I made sure it got done. However, on this particular afternoon. I began to wonder just how much trouble I would get in if I slipped out early.

      "I'd probably get fired."

      After all, a nice boss only gets a person so far when it comes to pressing the rules. So with that in mind, I bade my time and tried to make the most of a very boring day ahead of me.

      I was very familiar with the concept that time slows down when you desperately want it to speed up. My parents often argued late into the night. During those late nights, I wanted nothing more than to fast forward through it all. I mean, most of my childhood was spent wishing I could grow up and move out, but those nights in particular were cruel.

      With that being said, I couldn't very well manipulate time. I could, however, manipulate my attitude. I decided I would have a productive rest of the day. 

      At precisely 3:59, having accomplished almost nothing that afternoon, I stood up to head out. Thankfully my boss had a business trip that day, and would only be getting back late that night. 

      "I'll make up the work on Monday".

      Little did I know, at the time, come Monday my life would be turned around forever.

      I walked out the doors and did not look back. After all, I had a very important meeting myself this afternoon.

     After getting off the railway, and walking for a few minutes. I was now standing in front of the boutique store I had been scouting. Sweating, not with the excursion of the walk, but with nerves. I reminded myself that I had saved up all the extra money I could, and now was the moment of truth. There was a gorgeous black dress in there that had been half off for over a week. I knew that because I had made fairly regular trips to the area. Non-shalantly trying to find a sale.

      "This is your moment Lynne. Go in there and get YOUR fancy dress."

      Apparently, my inner self-consciousness hadn't gotten the memo that I was no longer a low-self-esteem teenager. I wanted that dress and was going to get it. I had no talent for fashion and didn't even bother to pay attention to style or brand names. If it did the job it did the job, but even I knew this was a special gift.

      I steeled my nerves. 

      "You don't belong with the beautiful people." One of my mother's last words to me. Sang like a chorus in the back of my head.

      "Your Wrong".

      I clenched the fist that I still wanted to use to smack the witch and went in. 

       I did so with my shoulders back and head held high. 

      "Well hello honey." Said a well-dressed man, with a lisp, behind a desk. On an earlier excursion, I ascertained that he was the owner of the establishment. He didn't seem to recognize me, as he was invested in his reading material.

       "Oh my God, he knows I don't belong here." 

       I looked around and noticed I wasn't being kicked out. I looked at a shirt I hadn't previously seen and nearly passed out trying to read all of the digits on the price tag. My extra months' worth of overtime suddenly seemed like a drop in the pond. I looked at a pair of designer pants.

      "Drop in the Ocean is more like it... It's ok I prepared for this. That's why I chose the black dress on sale along the wall here... Wait, where is it? It was just here this morning. I stopped by the shop on my way to work this morning. It was right here against the wall."

       I looked side to side in a desperate attempt to quell the inner anxiety building inside me. 

      "It has to be here. It can't be gone."

      "Excuse me, sir," I asked the man behind the desk. He hadn't ever really spoken to me much on my scouting trips to the store, but he seemed nice enough.

      "Yes honey," He said lowering his glasses. He was viewing a magazine catalog and somehow acknowledged me with his full attention without lifting his gaze from its pages.

      "The black dress that was here. Do you know where it is?" My unfortunate habit of furling my hands nervously, and looking at the floor when I talked to people. Was on full display even as I desperately tried to hide my anxiety. 

      The desperation in my voice must have been evident because he looked up at me. 

      "Oh honey, that sold." He pursed his lips and honestly looked as though he felt bad. 

      "A cute little thing like yourself picked it up a few hours ago. Said she'd been saving up all week."

      "All week, I'd been busting my chops for almost a month."

      Despite the anger inside. I nearly cried. This was supposed to be the first time I was going to feel special. Not just be told by a clerk or cat-called by a construction worker, but actually be special.

      "I was going to be pretty in that dress walking up the aisle with the crowd watching. Wishing me a happy life with my new husba... Where did that come from."

      "Is there another one on sale like that one?" I asked still not able to quell my nerves. My hand was shaking as despair slowly started to overtake me.
      "Dang it second time in a month I gave away my intentions during a negotiation."

Something wet brushed my hand on it's way to the floor.

     "Was that a tear? It couldn't be. I've been through so much worse than this. It's just a dress after all."

   At that moment I once again recalled my mother telling me "I didn't belong with the beautiful people."

      "Drip. Drip... Yeah those are definitely tears forming in the corner of my eyes."

       I took a deep breath and tried to gather myself. I wouldn't turn into a dribbling mess in front of this man.
      "Are there any others on sale". I asked again barely able to keep the whimper out of my voice.

      "Sorry hon. That one wasn't just on sale. It was the sale." The man answered politely.

      "Oh, OK" I said. As I turned to walk out. I began to think of some alternative options.

      "Maybe the thrift store would have something befitting trash."

      At that thought. I didn't even try to hold back the welling tears. As I walked away and covered my eyes. As to not make a total fool of myself. The man spoke up.

     "But, you know what they say. Any publicity is good publicity. I can't very well let a young thing like you drapes yourself in someone else's fabric. Let's see what we got here in that same price range."

      He was obviously able to guess my plight. He picked out a similar dress that under scrutiny was actually more plush than the one I wanted.

     "Sir, I can't afford that." I showed him how much money I had. Forcing myself not to get over-excited. After all, there is no such thing as a free meal.

       He looked at the amount I had in my purse. Visibly twitching at the sight of my worn-down leather bag, but nonetheless keeping his opinions to himself.

      "Well, between you and I, you'd actually be doing me a favor if you bought this thing. Been hanging on the racks for months now. A constant reminder of my failure to create perfection."

      I couldn't believe it. In Chicago, I'd been chased off the subway because my ticket was a day expired. This man was insinuating that he'd sell me this luxurious dress for the little amount I had. 

      "If it seems too good to be true it usually is."

      I glowered suspiciously. I was from Chicago, and nobody did anything for free in the "Windy City".

      He noticed my hesitation and looked at me lowering his glasses again with a knowing stare. 

      "Honey, I'm a fashion designer in California. If I wanted women I'd have em." I didn't get it. He took my hand and surprisingly I was not alarmed. I sensed no maliciousness from him

      "Trust me, honey, you're not my type." I had no idea what he meant. I wasn't sure what type I was. As far as I knew there was only pretty and ugly. All the same, I couldn't believe it. This wonderful man was going to let me buy my perfect dress. I would be special after all!

      I began to recollect some of my daydreams of the past few weeks. Some involving a princess and...

      "Was he my Prince Charming?"

      I couldn't quite put my finger on why, but I decided that, as I was not his type, neither was he mine. I was so elated at the idea of getting an even better dress. I didn't much care for charming princes and fairylands. If need be, this princess would write her own story.

      "Thanks again sir," I said as I exited the building. Having happily handed over all the money in my purse. I was so happy I decided I'd walk home rather than take the railcar to my street. It's amazing how fast our emotions can flip. One second we're in tears. The next we're skipping down L.A. for several miles to get home in the most positive mindset we've ever been in.

      That night I laid my clothes out for the upcoming day of travel. I began thinking about where my slip-up in thinking came from. I mean I wasn't in the greatest mindset at the time, but at some point, I could swear I was envisioning myself not getting my dream husband. Why was this dress so important? I held the thing up and looked at it. Even after several hours I still couldn't hide my elation.

      "I mean yea she's beautiful but still. I'm not the one getting married." 

      I had to remind myself of that fact before I got too ahead of myself. At this point, I had the dress draped over my front and was looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror. 

      "MRS. Somebody, anybody, nobody? Way to spoil the mood Lynne."

        I had to laugh at that. After all, it's not as if a person's personality can totally change in a few hours. 

        After my roller coaster of emotions. I decided that was enough for one day. The mission was a success, and that is what mattered. I sighed. One step at a time. Smiling to myself I put the dress in the protective lining it came with, and carefully packed it.

      I decided while the dress was beautiful. It was my actions that led me to get it. There was a further lesson in there, but my exciting day began to take hold of me and I decided it was time for bed.

      I said goodnight to my prize and carefully zipped it up in my suitcase. I put on my pajamas, turned the light off, and went to bed. Dreams of chocolate pound cake and twirling dresses filled my head that night.

        .