KNOCKOUT

Chapter 2.- What a day

Thank you Catherine for being my beta for this chapter.

I've realized there are whole bunch of ideas that at the moment seemed like good ones, which turned out not to be.

Like walking in a crowded airport, wearing a wedding dress.

Although I manage to steal a couple of sighs from little girls and even one who came up to me and asked for my autograph, wondering if I was the next Disney princess and I could tolerate the ones who called out a "Congratulations," however the ones that got on my nerves were the guys whistling cat calls and something about getting down to business tonight.

The only down to business I am getting, it's a threesome, with my boys Jack Daniel's and Johnny Walker.

Heck maybe even a Reverse Harem if I add Ben and Jerry to the mixture.

On a positive side, the land crew from the airline were very kind with me and after noticing the lack of groom and my request for a one way ticket to Las Vegas, they kindly avoid questioning me and manage to put me on the next available flight.

I did have to pay for my ticket though, because the one for Italy was a nonrefundable, but looking at the positive side, this way is going to be harder for Jason to track me down.

Which is exactly what I was looking for.

Once I cleared airport security, which earned me another set of questioning looks from the officers, I decide to stop at the first available shop and look for a dress carrier, to stop parading through a crowded airport as a bride or a crazy woman. My request, as expected, was an odd one to the store clerk, more used for people asking for suitcases, to my great disappointment they didn't have one available, so I had to settle for a suit carrier instead.

I could almost bang my head when at the register reality sink in, about all my clothes being at the suitcase which I had to document at the airline counter, leaving me with zero clothes to wear once I take off my dress.

Argh! Another thing I did not think thoroughly.

Lucky for me, a souvenir store was just next door. I had to settle for a medium "DFW" t-shirt, the letters going across my chest, unfortunately since they didn't have my size I had to settle for a bigger one and since misery doesn't like to travel alone, I added some ugly loose pants with the "DFW" letters across my thigh.

I'll bet nobody is going to have a single doubt of where I am from.

I go to the first available bathroom and enter one of the small cubicles to change. I try avoid the thought of how my once pristine, beautiful mermaid trail is getting stain of God knows what; my main focus is trying to get the darn dress off, which I soon figure out is a task not meant to be done by the person wearing it.

Another thing I had not even considered!

No matter how much I stretch, twist, or rearrange my in to what I assume are inhuman positions, the darn zipper seems to be out of my reach!

I don't know if I should be giving kudos to the designers or cursing at them!

I try taking it off without unzipping it, but of course the designers again did a tremendous job at making sure the dress stays in place. Not even a bar of butter could slide this darn thing off me!

Why? Why is this happening to me?

The whole stretching out to get the zipper has me all workout; my face is sweaty and I am betting there are more than a few hairs escaping  my once perfect hairdo. Plus any elegant demeanor and ladylike behavior is lost, since I am mentally and probably out loud swearing like a sailor.