Friday, January 20, 2012

Places you shouldn't wedge your rack

My house has been for sale a few months now, so I've learned the realtors' showing schedule coincides with days it looks as though a herd of wildebeests has been mating in the living room.

Thursday morning, I was putting the finishing touches on tidying for a 10 a.m. showing. I wonder whether anyone even notices if I've scrubbed the shower or wiped down the kitchen counters, I mused. I wonder what sort of things people comment on as they walk through the house.


That's the sound of me having an idea. A really good idea.

What if I pretended to vacate the premises as usual, but actually hid under the bed in the guest room? I could listen to the entire showing, and hear what people say about my house. That sort of feedback could be valuable, right?

Plus I'm nosy. There's always that.

I scuttled into the guest room to make sure my plan would work. I got down on the floor and stuck my head under the bed, testing to be certain my skull wasn't too big to fit.

All clear.

I'm a pretty small person, so I figured the rest of me would slide neatly beneath the bed without a hitch.

But I forgot about the one part of me that isn't so small.

My housemate walked in just in time to find me wedged halfway under the bed and stuck – totally, completely stuck – on my boobs.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Thinking about hiding under the bed," I replied with as much nonchalance as I could muster with my rack caught in a vice grip.

"How's that working out for you?"

"Not so well."

I struggled a little, then began to panic. What if I couldn't free myself? Would my housemate be able to help? Would I be stuck there until the fire department arrived or the realtors showed up with their house-hunting clients? I could imagine the conversation:

And here we have the spacious kitchen with cherry cabinets and lovely granite counters, and over here we have a romance author who's oblivious to the dimensions of her own body.

I squirmed again, more frantic this time.

"Need a hand?" My housemate asked.

"My boobs are stuck," I admitted.

"That's not something I hear every day."

"Pity," I yelped as I finally freed myself and crawled out from under the bed.

Thoroughly discouraged, I finished the last tidbits of tidying before I slunk to my car and left in disgrace.

I should probably be embarrassed about the whole thing, but mostly I'm just annoyed. I really did want to eavesdrop. Who would have guessed my boobs would be a barrier to my own nosiness?


Patty Blount said...

There was one time I got stuck. It wasn't BY my boobs, but they were a contributing factor.

I was wearing a pair of slacks with a side zip. I headed to the ladies room between conferences with a pressing need.

the zipper got stuck.

I couldn't see the damn thing over my chest and had to flag down another rest room user for help before I wet myself.

I have never worn side-zip slacks again.

Patrick Alan said...

I worry for your boobs everyday.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for starting off my day with a great belly laugh.

LAH said...

That is hilarious... I love eavesdropping on people as well. I'll have to keep this in mind though, if I'm ever wedging myself in a cramped space.

Linda G. said...

You realize you're living in the middle of a sitcom, don't you?

Matthew MacNish said...

There's an answer for this. It's called a tweaker camera.

Unknown said...

What I wouldn't pay to see that.

Btw, I made my heroine suffer from too large love hills to raise the tension at the end, but it was a ventilation shaft and not a bed...

Anonymous said...

While selling my house I had the same need to overhear what potential buyers were saying, so I set up the baby monitor in a non-obvious spot and then stood in the garage.

I could hear everything, including "Well, lets take a quick look in the garage." so I knew when to make an exit.

Baby monitors are less than $30 :)

Christi Corbett

Writer Pat Newcombe said...

Getting stuck is what nosy people risk. But what fun to hide under the bed and hear what people say - pity your boobs did a job on you!

Brandi Guthrie said...

I can't say I've ever gotten stuck via my chest, but my hips are another story. I had to break into my own house once through a small bathroom window and had to do some serious wiggling to get through. I'm sure my husband thought it was hilarious.

Sarah Allen said...

Ok, so I have the best mental picture going on right now ever.

Sarah Allen
(my creative writing blog)

Sarah W said...

Our library's back stacks has compact shelving -- the kind you crank open and shut, to save space -- and I'm always too impatient to crank the aisle all the way open. Guess what's happened more than once?

The last time, I knocked (pun intended) an entire shelf of encylopedias to the floor trying to get free . . .

You'd think natural ones would compress flat or something, wouldn't you? But they don't.

This is why I never buy it when women described as 'voluptuous' (or on screen are clearly sporting a pair of Cs or even Bs) are able to disguise themselves successfully as men. Especially slim, boyish men who wouldn't have man cleavage. Or hips, for that matter.

Nope. Men (hetero or not) may be blind to a lot of things, but boobs aren't two of them.

Laina said...

Bahaha! Oh, my XD

Unknown said...

Ha! Way to make me snort-laugh my way through my cup of coffee! Also, Linda G's sitcom comment didn't help!