The Dress

I went online and ordered what I thought was the perfect dress for a formal wedding that Mickey and i are attending together next month.  It arrived today and let me say that it was less than perfect.

It's satin, yes.  But I can't begin to describe how wrinkled this dress is.   Were I to try to wear it, I would have to PAY a dry cleaner to iron it for me. 

But that's not the worst of it.  This dress that I've been anxiously anticipating is also a fucking TENT.  It's gigantic.  It's a fucking MooMoo.  Complete with elastic on the back, in case I gain the 50 pounds required to wear this fucking canopy.

I'm really pissed off that I have to drive to the post office and pay to ship this ugly ass tent back to the company.  I'm pissed that they wasted my time.  And I'm pissed that they don't, at a minimum, absorb the shipping costs for my returning it.

Tomorrow I'm going to have to drive into town, which takes about 20 minutes each way, to the post office.  I've twisted up this TENT called a dress, into a tight rope and bound it all together in duct tape and am sending it back return receipt requested.  I'm going to call and harrass these assholes until they credit my card for the bad purchase of this dog of a dress.

Now I have to go find another dress.  Assholes.

Mickey thinks I'm over-reacting.  I kicked him in the balls for suggesting it.