Tuesday, April 20, 2010

The Very Interesting Tale of My Little Red Riding Skirt

You know when you look into your closet in the morning and take out an item of clothing, examine it, and wonder why you don't wear it more often because it's soooooo cute? And then, as the day progresses and you repeatedly have to remove said item of clothing from your buttcrack, and then you finally remember? Yeah, I hear you. Me and my red skirt.

I have one of those body types that doesn't do well with things that fasten at the waist. Why? Because my waist is like three inches below my boobs. And rather than just going with it and dressing like Fred Mertz, I try to find items of clothing that fall right above my hips. You know...where my waist should be?

Long story short, today I'm wearing a red skirt. And every time I sit down, it rides up to my waist and I feel like I'm wearing it right under my armpits.

Now, I know right now you're all wondering why I'm telling you this story because, clearly, it's not very interesting unless you are a drunken skirt enthusiast who loves Fred Mertz. But it does help me segue into the following tale of debauchery and poorly made clothing.

The Story of Little Red Riding Skirt

Once upon a time in the woods lived a little girl named Little Red Riding Skirt. Now, no one knew why her parents named her Little Red Riding Skirt. Because, clearly, it was a stupid, stupid name. But luckily, when Little Red Riding Skirt was about 12 years old, her grandmother made her a red skirt. And since Grandmother was a terrible seamstress, the skirt rode up so that the waist was right below Little Red Riding Skirt's armpits. And even though Little Red Riding Skirt hid the horrible piece of clothing in the back of the closet, she sometimes pulled it out anyway when she didn't have any clean laundry. And for the rest of the day, she would walk around with her red skirt riding up and making her generally cranky. Therefore, the name ended up being quite fitting, although Little Red Riding Skirt would have preferred to be called Margaret or Helen or Cashmere Sweater.

One day in September, Little Red Riding Skirt's father said, "Little Red Riding Skirt, your grandmother is quite ill. Why don't you take her this picnic basket filled with Xanax and whiskey?" And because she was a nice person, Little Red Riding Skirt agreed. And because it was laundry day, she was unfortunately forced to wear her horrible red riding skirt.

The walk to Grandmother's house took several hours because Little Red Riding Skirt kept having to stop and pull the skirt back down so that she didn't look like a walking circus tent. Unluckily, she was being closely followed by a Big, Bad Wolf who was 1) drunken 2) a skirt enthusiast and 3) a fan of Fred Mertz. He also liked large baskets of Xanax and whiskey, as we all do.

"Ah ha," thought the wolf, "I will run ahead to Grandmother's house and disguise myself in her clothing. And then, when Little Red Riding Skirt arrives, she'll think that I am the grandmother and give me that whiskey and Xanax." And so he did just that.

Several more hours passed.

And finally, Little Red Riding Skirt arrived at her grandmother's house, very, very cranky and looking quite similar to a walking circus tent.

"Grandmother! I am here!" said Little Red Riding Skirt, tugging down her ill-fitting garment.

"I am in the bedroom, darling!" said a voice from Grandmother's bedchamber.

Little Red Riding Skirt entered the room where her grandmother slept.

Now, it's important that you remember that the Big, Bad Wolf has been hanging out in Grandma's bed for several hours wearing Grandma's clothing. And you must also recall that Grandmother is a terrible seamstress, so everything the wolf has been wearing is uncomfortable and ill-fitting and he's getting quite cranky.

Little Red Riding Skirt looked at her grandmother.

"Grandmother, what ill-fitting stockings you have on," she said.

"The better to prevent deep vein thrombosis, my dear," replied the faux Wolf Granny.

"But, Grandmother, what an uncomfortable looking sweater you have on," said Little Red Riding Skirt.

"The better to keep the electricity bill low, my dear," said the imposter Grandmother.

"But, Grandmother, what a poorly made skirt you have on that has hiked up and I can clearly see your wolf balls!" said Little Red Riding Skirt.

The wolf was embarrassed, of course, and quickly tried to pull the skirt back down to hide his genitalia. And then he launched himself toward Little Red Riding Skirt, fangs bared in preparation of eating her, the whiskey, and the Xanax all in one gulp.

But, as you have probably already guessed was going to happen, he became tangled in the ill-fitting, poorly made bathrobe he was wearing and launched himself into the fireplace instead.

Little Red Riding Skirt took off the horrible red riding skirt, threw it into the fire, and skipped home in her underwear.



You're wondering what happened to the grandmother, aren't you? Well, she popped a few Xanax and went to the casino.


Banana Queen said...

I think you, my dear, are quite possibly the funniest damn person on the planet. Then again, I have a basket of Xanax and whiskey, so everything feels soft and funny and beautiful right now. =) Hey look, Xanax rainbows!

The Honorable Mayor of Bethville said...

@Banana Queen: Oh, thank you very much. I'm very flattered.

Dave Matthews said...

I came up with a song about skirts riding up after I met Big Red Riding Skirt. It became quite popular in the late 90s.