The Walls are Falling

When I first opened my store I was excited about the prospect of getting out of my drool spattered, oatmeal smeared motherhood outfits, and back into dresses and heels. Armed with shopping bags stuffed with great frocks from Marshall Fields, and a few new pairs of 4" heels, I was ready to dazzle the hords of customers that would flock through my Western Avenue store.
On one such adventures day I was dressed in an adorable black and red shirt waist dress, slightly above the knees with matching black pumps. A customer decided they wanted to see an out of season item that was perched on a ledge near the ceiling. I dragged out the ladder and daintily climbed up to fetch the product. In old Chicago buildings, the ceilings are 10-12 feet high so this was not an easy nor safe task. The customer did not buy....duhhhh
So I climb back up the ladder to put the item away, and the pegboard paneling falls forward. I am on the sixth rung of the ladder holding the fucking wall up . If I let go it will push me and the ladder over onto the display case. After about 10 minutes, sweat pouring out of every orifice, Harry the UPS delivery guy comes in the front door yelling,"Delivery Debi" I tell him I am holding up the wall and to get some help. He replies, "Delivery, Debi, sign here.": I now yell at Harry that I am holding up the goddamn wall and go get help. He gazes at me with this perplexed look and say "Does this mean you can't sign for the delivery? After screaming numerous expletives, Harry finally goes for help and the wall and I are rescued.
As you may guess, I do not wear dresses or heels to work any more.