Tuesday, 11 September 2007
Exhibitionist
Determined to get to work on time, I rush out the front door and run to the station after a hasty pee. After fighting my way through a swarm of ignorant grammar school children (Yo! Hugo, wait up!), I sprint up the platform and jump onto the fast train. I bag the last seat in the carriage and sit there panting and sweating from the effort, but pleased to have caught the train. As my heaving chest subsides, I look down to see my trousers gaping open, a button and the zip completely undone, my see-through, black and white, zebra print thong entirely visible to anyone who cares to look down. Embarrassed, I hastily pull the zip up, but can’t help chuckling to myself as well.
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3 comments:
Some good comes from the strangest places.
Whew. So it's not just me, or men who do that. It happened to me recently, and I discovered it in mid-conversation, standing, talking to a friend, not at work, fortunately. Did I correct it? Yes. Didn't want any dangling participles in the conversation.
At least you'd worn *something* that day, dearling.
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