There's nothing to make you quite so self-conscious as this:
I'm walking to the bathroom at work, and one of my co-workers calls out my name. "Deborah!" I turn, make eye-contact with them, and they continue, "You have a hole in your trousers."
I put a hand back and feel my bum. There's a hole in my pants. A big hole. When did that happen?
(
Read more... )
Comments 40
(The comment has been removed)
Hooray for chutzpah; it makes life far more bearable :)
*hugs*
Reply
Reply
Luckily it doesn't happen too often, or I'd start to get paranoid :)
Reply
Well, not the full pants ripping sewing-rescue dance, just the one where I wriggle a little bit :)
Reply
Reply
I'm sure your co-workers do not deserve the delightful treat of a glimpse at your knickers.
Reply
Reply
Reminds me of Grammar shirts, the school shop of which sold camoflaged velcro shirts which looked like normal shirts because so many were ruined playing rugby. It became evident early on that if you grabbed someone by the collar and hauled, the victim would fall over and all the buttons would come off, leaving them ragged and exposing pasty flesh for the rest of the day.
Such activities stayed on the rugby field for perhaps 1.43 minutes.
The 'Escape Shirt' was just easier. It'd get dragged off, you'd reclaim it with possible violence, and no harm done.
So now the idea of Escape Pants has occurred to me, and I'm having difficulty thinking of situations that'd need them that I'd be able to market to a wider community interest. Ah so.
Also: Thankee for Van Wilder and the Angel video! *Hugs.*
Reply
Also: You're totally welcome!
Reply
-elf-
Reply
Leave a comment