You get the memo in your sleep; it is a list of things you are not permitted to wear to work. The list is long; pants, shirts, skirts, underwear, socks and boots.
You wake up and ride the train to work. No one on the train notices that you are stark naked. When you get to the office you are met with looks of horror and snarky stares. You instinctively know that you are in trouble. You walk into your boss’s office and wait for a scolding. Your co-worker Gary is already in there and gives you an amused look as you walk in.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand the memo,” you say and you are suddenly ashamed of your body which you suddenly realize is fat and doughy.
“It’s okay,” he says with a chuckle. He looks you up and down in a loving way and you wonder, for a moment if he could ignore the hideous aspect of your aspect.
“I should have known that they meant I should wear a towel.”
“It’s a natural mistake. In fact there is a giant room filled with towels down the hall.” He says opening the door for you.
You walk down the hall till you see a door that says ‘giant room filled with towels.’ You open it and find that there is nothing their but an enormous room filled with painting of nudes. The nudes make you feel inferior in your blobby bareness. You stare at them until they turn into Muppets. Gary is suddenly behind you.
“Do you like it, “he says in a French accent. ”I painted it this morning after breakfast?”
“You are sick,” you say beginning to cry.
“You have to realize our hearts are made of Styrofoam no matter what are genitals look like.”
“I know, I know,” but why say it? If we don’t say it we can tell ourselves it’s not true.”
“I brought you a towel. I think you will look nice in it.”
You put on the towel and you wrap it around you like a disco dress.
“Let’s go to a meeting in San Francisco”. He says taking out an egg salad sandwich and eating it.
You follow him down the street and get in his car you drive to the airport. You get to security and you are told you cannot board the plane with bare feet. You are angry, believing that it is a conspiracy to get you to pay airport prices for shoes.
You decide to get your feet amputated and replaced with suitcase wheels. You roll onto the plane. You look around and notice that everyone looks vaguely familiar. You realize that you are at your high-school reunion. You turn around and look for Gary, but he is gone.
You order a martini and are handed a Shirley Temple. You choke down the hideous sugar drink as you attempt to make conversation with your former classmates, but the groups of people stand closer together as you approach.
“Can’t you see we are all movie stars” said one of them as she turns into George Clooney. She blows on you until you shrink.
“I came here with a beautiful young man” You scream, but no one hears you as you are only an inch big. The plane lands. You get off the plane and find Gary waiting for you with an enormous box of popcorn.
“What happened to you?” you ask with indignation.
“We can’t very well travel on the same plane, what if it crashes? You’re tiny,” he says picking you up and carrying you into the men’s room.
You avert your eyes as he throws you in the sink. The men who come to wash their hands regard you with amusement as he begins to fill the sink. You feel yourself growing until you are so big that your ass is welded into the sink. Security comes and help you out of the sink.
“Let me see your passport,” The security guard insists.
“Passport, this is San Francisco,” you argue.
Gary bribes him with the popcorn and you get back in your towel.
“Where is this business meeting,” you ask.
“I don’t know yet,” Gary says. “But San Francisco is a big city with lots of businesses and one of them must be having a meeting.”
He kisses you and you wish your high school classmates could see it.
Gary rolls you into the city and you live happily ever after.