"What? You REALLY don't want this dress?"

I've been in a sour mood all week.

Schoolwork stress and the devastating news that my dad was kicking me off his insurance plan have had me feeling glum.

This evening, I set off for Nordstrom to find the perfect dress for the wedding I'm going to this weekend.

I was in desperate need of some serious retail therapy.

Upon my arrival, I breathed in that magical Nordstrom scent and meandered around the formalwear section, waiting for an associate to help me.

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Except no one was helping me.

Never mind! I could find my own lovely frock.

I found a few contenders and took them to a dressing room.

Neither was a good fit.

As I headed back out into the store, a young woman approached me, "What are you looking for today? Do you need any help?"

Hurrah! Finally!

"Yes! I do need help," I told her. "I'm going to a wedding this weekend, and I'm looking for a dress. I really like v-necks and an empire waist."

"I have THE PERFECT dress for you!" she exclaimed, taking off with me close behind. "Do you like black?"

"Sure!" I replied, exciting to see this PERFECT dress.

She pulled a pretty dress off the rack, but it was one I had already inspected and walked past earlier. It had a lace top with a solid black skirt. The skirt was a thick material, and it just looked a little uncomfortable to me.

"Oh, that one," I said.

"Will you try it on?"

She just looked so enthusiastic about this dress! I couldn't say no.

"Of course I will!" I took the dress from her, and we retreated to the fitting room.

Putting the dress on, I just felt...frumpy.

Even worse?

The zipper was stuck.

"Let's see here..." the saleswoman said, trying to pull the zipper up. "I think it's just caught on this material..."

"Maybe we should try a bigger size?" I suggested, hating this experience more and more by the second.

"No, it's not the size. It's this dress...hey!" she called to another saleswoman. "Can you help me with this zipper?"

Approximately three minutes and two saleswomen later, the zipper had been secured.

"OH MY GOSH! PERFECT DRESS, right?" the saleswoman grinned. "Now, let me just leave you to bask in it! I'll be right back."

I stared at my reflection.

Bask?

More like wallow in self-loathing.

I looked as frumpy as I felt, and the top was way too low-cut. It was awful in so many ways.

I waited a few minutes for my saleswoman to return to unzip me and then finally gave up and squirmed out of it myself.

Of course, she returned as I was exiting the fitting room sans dress.

"So! Buying the dress?"

"Oh, no...I'm sorry. It's just...it took two people to get the zipper up. That really isn't going to work for my situation." I imagined my poor friend attempting to work the zipper. He would never be able to master that zipper by himself.

"What? You REALLY don't want this dress? REALLY?"

Okay. Now she was officially REALLY annoying me.

"I feel fat in it, okay?" I finally said, throwing a Hail Mary. "I feel FAT."

"Oh...oh. Okay."

So I left Nordstrom without a dress.

Thank goodness I had a classic black dress on standby.

But it really just goes to show...you can never find a formal dress when you're looking for one.

Never.