Thursday, October 27, 2005

Flash Dance

I think I must have been a stripper in a past life because no matter how hard I try, I always end up flashing people. No matter what care I take when wearing a knee level skirt, I always end up giving people a good view of thigh. If I dare to wear something a little low-cut, I either forget and lean over, or a button of loose virtues decides to aid the process. For instance, I was wearing a button down dress while taking a test. While bending over to turn the test in, my professor gave me a strange look. Only as I exited the building did I realize that a key button had sneakily slipped from it's confinement to let anyone who cared to know what color my bra was.
I did get an 'A' on my test though.

Only once have I let such a flashing incident occur. At my brother's wedding, I was a bride's maid and thus subjected to a blue dress that stopped at my upper thigh (there's no such thing as a bride's maid dress that fits). That's right, there could be no bending or sitting for me because even standing a certain way almost guaranteed a panty shot.
Knowing this, I intentionally raised my arms up high to catch the bonquet. I had the misfortune of being highly competitive and desperately single. Maybe I was subconsiously hoping that the extra view of my tighty whiteys might aid the latter trait.

The most notable transgression of this strange chain of coincidences came in the form of a tornado warning. A mere hour before the library for which I worked would close, we went under a tornado warning and were forced to evacuate to the basement with what few patrons refused to leave the building. We ended up staying there until ten o' clock at night with absolutely no furniture to sit on, no food, and at least one patron who smelled like dirty socks. I spent most of the evening trying to avoid the open-mouthed stare of an adolescent sitting next to his younger brother. I kept glancing to my co-workers questioningly, but they just quickly avoided my gaze. So, I spent the whole night getting miffed at this kid and the middle-aged man for staring at me but remained silent since I was technically on the clock and had to be nice.
It was only the following day that I was enlightened to what had so caught their rapt attention.
I happened to be wearing a long button down dress (different one) that day. Because of its length, I deemed it safe to sit on the floor without giving anything away. As usual, I was wrong. I had managed to sit in just a way to give a generous view of my legs and panties. That's right, I brought a young man to adulthood that night. Apparently, the entire staff saw it too but didn't bother to inform me of my unfortunate positioning. Thanks guys.
To make matters worse, my car drowned while I tried to flee that night.

Does anyone else have this weird problem? Am I alone in my unintentional flashings?


Blogger Doggie Extraordinaire's Mom said...

I've done this 100 times, at least. It doesn't help that I have large breasts that want to roam the countryside free as birds. Of course, this makes me wear minimizer bras that smoosh them tight to my chest, which creates more cleavage -- like up to my neck! Button up shirts and dresses are impossible, and even if I safety pin them together, I end up stabbed with a burst pin, so the only option is to sew the entire seam together and pretend the buttons are just for show.

We have a situation with the stairway leading to the children's area being adjacent to a high traffic area in the staff area, and what's dividing the lower stairway from the higher staff area? A glass wall! So, whenever I wear a skirt and walk past this area, there inevitably will be some perverted patron either getting flashed, or trying to peer further up my skirt.

No matter how hard I try, I think my girly parts want more attention. I shudder at the thought of a solution for that.

12:53 PM  

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