Friday, July 30, 2010


I about had a heart attack last night.
I was being measured for my costumes for "Damn Yankees." When I've been measured before, I've had to get down to my skivvies. This wonderful lady, however, supports our modesty and measured us over our clothes.
Especially after all I've been through with nutrition and fitness as of late, I was worried the addition of clothing to my measurements would make those numbers a little bulkier than my mind would prefer.
I hear, "Waist, 36."
I scream (I really should learn to control myself), "WHAT?!?! My waist is 36 inches?!?"
The costumer looked rather startled at my reaction and said, "Yep, you want me to check again?"
Uh...heck yes!
"Ohhhh.....that was 26, my mistake."
I about died.

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