About 9:00 this morning I walk to the ladies’ room and get the sinking feeling that something’s not right. My stockings are slooooooowly sliding down my thighs.
Crap. I yank them back up, but on the walk back to my desk they start to sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide down again.
Double crap.
So I grab my keys and tell Damon that I’ll be back in 10 minutes. Hike the tops up again, and make my way out to my car.
Sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide.
I’m swimming upstream now…more people are coming inside. Out the door. Start taking brisk strides toward my car…
Sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide.
The tops of my stockings slide down below the hem of my skirt, and continue past my knees within sight of at least two male employees outside. One of them a director. Crap.
“Hey, Kim…gonna buy new pantyhose?” the director bellows out…
I smile winningly…barelegged by this point…stockings puddled around my ankles, and holler back, “Looks like I have to, doesn’t it?”
I get into my car, with the Grace and Dignity that befits a Lady (even one with her hosiery around her ankles) and drive off to the 7-11 across the street.
Ten years ago, I would have been mortified. I would have gone home and called out sick the rest of the day. Nowadays, though, I have more confidence than ever. Cruddy things happen to people. If this is the worst thing that happens to me this year, I’m truly a lucky girl.
Note to self: ensure all hose at home are of proper size. Else, start wearing garter belt.
