I was a naive teenager.
I'll admit it.
I was the girl that thought that when Madonna sang Like a Virgin, she was talking about the Virgin Mary.
I was the girl that had no idea what Frankie was really talking about when he sang Relax . . . Don't Do It, When You Wanna Come.
That was me.
So when I had my first job at a local pizza place, I suspected nothing amiss. I eagerly swallowed the story that the only size work shirt that the shop had left for me was an extra small. I readily believed my boss and his son as he handed over my uniform, and I left feeling great that I would start my new job the next Friday evening.
A new job and free pizza? Seriously, what more could a teenager want?
Apparently, I could have taken the lead from The Wizard of Oz's scarecrow and wished for a brain.
Because I certainly wasn't using my brain when I showed up for my shift wearing my way too small t-shirt uniform with the words Luv'n Oven emblazoned across my boobs.
The bright side?
I made loads of tips that I am now sure were not because of my smile.
********Linking to Mama Kat's . . .****************