Fun Halloween French Maid
There is nothing more fun than being away at college during Halloween. Young, in shape, pretty, and free to be whatever I wanted to be, I was a French maid. Long story short, my mom had this really cool black velvet dress with white lace around the sleeves and neckline. I got me one of those little French maid accessory sets, including the tiny hat thing, apron, and of course a garter. I donned some black seamed stockings, and three inch heels. Then I went to class. It was a huge difference from the conservative white polyester that medical assistant students wore to class each day.
The other girls in my pack dressed up too. One was a “stoner”, one was a clown, and another dressed in her regular street clothes. The guy in our group was not into dressing up, that was more of a girl thing in our “all girls school” with the seven guys. Some law about discrimination based on gender. I guess that was a new thing in 1980.
Anyway, we were taking a break on a picnic table near the highway while waiting for our next class to begin. I was standing with my back to the road and we were kind of in a circle with John, the single guy, sitting on the tabletop. All of a sudden we heard a pickup truck. The highway was in a small town so it was not very busy. We could cross the road easily most times of the day or evening without fear of harm. Anyway, this pickup truck must have noticed us because we were kind of obvious. The clown was all painted up with a white satin jumpsuit all covered in colored dots. Me? I was that French maid, my hair all dolled up, the short black dress, barely covering anything and my muscular legs were being showed off in those high heel shoes. All we know is the next second that guy was passing by us, doing a double-take. He turned so fast that he tried to compensate his driving by cutting his steering wheel in the other direction. He ended up in the ditch by where we were standing. Well, of course, being the good little medical assistant students that we were, we jumped up and ran over. You should have seen me try to run in the grass in three inch heels. It was quite the sight! But I beat my cohorts to the man in the truck. He was getting out, unscathed. His truck was fine, too. It was just a little ditch. When he got out, he blamed me for his loss of control. I was pretty naïve at 18 years old and did not know what he was talking about. My friend, the clown, just started laughing really loudly. She is of Puerto Rican descent, and quite the effervescent personality. She told me to look at what I was wearing and my cheeks began to burn. I did not realize I looked the way I did. I had the ability to stop a truck! I began laughing too. The driver of the truck gave us all an sheepish grin and John helped him get his truck out of the ditch.
Before the man drove off he thanked us for our help, winked at me, and thanked me for the view. I just shrugged, and went off to our next class. I did not live that down for a full month. It was great that the guy did not get hurt but I’ve never worn a dress that short again.
