ok guys, look, clearly i am always just one step away from a public humiliation involving my panties or some sort of random action of hysterical lunatics... AND I LOVE IT!
today was a panty humiliation day.
to set the scene:
it is our big day and i on my way to the venue. it's before 9am and i haven't had coffee and i am wearing a very small yellow skirt and walking down the road to the theatre to ensure that many people have good food to eat and musical theatre songs to hear... (and other stuff too...). i am tired and a bit grumpy because i didn't sleep well the night before. (there was a lot on my mind).
now, it's important to keep in mind that i have recently lost some weight and one of the up-and-down-sides to this is that things become to big-panties and tights included...
see where this is going?
so my too-big panties decide to team up with my way-too-big tights and battle with my small skirt for supremacy. the skirt has formed an alliance with my purse and all four parties are in cahoots with the weather and a busy downtown street to ruin what already isn't the raddest morning in my rather illustrious 31 years. so, the purse is pulling the already small skirt UP while the tights and panties are hanging out and slowly falling down. and neither skirt nor under-skirt stuff has a long way to travel before things become indecent.
SO... i walk down the road to the theatre in battle. i pull my skirt down as i try to hike my tights up and then again and again and again. i do this for 3 blocks until i arrive and am grateful for the 4 floors of elevator peace and quiet to readjust. but guess what folks... you guessed it-THE ELEVATOR IS JAMMED FUCKING PACKED and there is no where for me to pull up my tights and pull down my skirt. at least by this point i have devised a plan to tuck my tshirt into my tights giving the whole thing a bit more bulk to cling to and actually maybe stay up for the day (SPOILER: that plan eventually works!). so i get to the fourth floor planning on heading straight to the bathroom and guess what, THE THEATRE ISN'T ON THE FOURTH FLOOR. not even a little bit. it's on the second floor.
so i head back to the elevator (where is a private, dingy stairwell when you need it?) and blissfully i am alone. two floors to fix my underwear, no problem. doors close... PICTURE THIS:
a brunette woman of 31 enters and elevator. she looks tired and a bit sullen, the grey day isn't agreeing with her and she long for her bed, some coffee, a book and someone to suck face with. her sullen mood may also be attributed to the fact that she is having some underwear turmoil that must be immediately remedied lest it ruin her whole day. the elevator is empty... bliss. the brunette immediately lifts her small skirt up just under her breasts and begins to simulataneous tug her tights and panties up while furiously shoving her t-shirt into the space between skin and spandex. just as she is about the finish the task... BING!
the elevator door opens and in walks a devastatingly handsom volunteer in a page-boy cap. she pulls her skirt down as far as it should go and straightens herself out... they are both blushing hard.
now, at this point anyone with half a brain would just keep quiet and smile and share a secret with this handsome stranger who is never to be seen again... but I am not that girl. nope, me and my panties haven't had quite enough just yet so we say:
me: sorry you saw me fixing my skirt. there was some trauma.
him: oh, i wasn't going to say anything.
me: i guess i probably shouldn't have said anything either, but you saw my underwear and i couldn't NOT apologize for that. it's early in the morning...
him: it's ok, a girl's gotta do...
me: ha! ha ha ha! (and i laugh like this, sort of hysterically, for a few seconds...)
and i am safe.
i run into the lobby laughing at myself and my morning and i am cheered up a little. for a second anyway.
if you were curious, everything but the skirt was black so at least there was that small dignity saved!