There are so many ways to headline this post. Here are some of the titles I’ve considered:
- Spooky Panty Prank
- Good Underwear Gone Bad
- What to Do When Underwear Falls at Your Feet
- Image Expert Responds to Fashion Fiasco
- Mother Never Prepared Me for This One
Let’s start with that last one. Did your mother warn you to always start the day with clean underwear because if you got in a car accident and had to go to the hospital, EVERYONE would notice if you hadn’t? Probably. But did she warn you that your panties could just appear out of nowhere while you’re walking down the street? No, of course not. But I will.
You’re going to be there at the scene of the crime in just two paragraphs but let me give you the facts that led up to the event. It was Saturday. I took a late morning shower, grabbed some clean underwear and threw on the jeans I’d worn for part of the day the day before. They were easy to grab as I’d folded them loosely and placed them the night before on top of my sock box. I put on my bra, a gray/black-striped tee and my lightweight quilted black moto jacket. I opened the lid of my sock box and pulled out a pair of low cut athletic socks. I put them on along with my black patent sneakers and laced them up.
I had a massage appointment to get to. It’s only about a seven-minute drive plus parking. Boy did I feel lucky. I found a great parking place on a side street just off the Sonoma Square. I only had a block to walk. I’d enjoy the people watching as I headed to my date with Andrew at Massage Envy. Sonoma is a destination town and the square is always full of people on Saturdays. Women are usually dressed in Wine Country casual chic attire. You can imagine: My style eyes were in heaven as I observed shoes, accessories, dresses, and cute jean outfits passing to and fro.
I was only a few doors from my destination when I felt something brush against my ankles. Could it be one of those small adorable dogs on someone’s leash that had chosen to get chummy with me? I looked down expecting to see something furry and instead I saw a wad of something, something sort of familiar. Wait a minute. It was pink and black and had lace on it. WAIT A MINUTE! It looked like my underwear! How could my underwear be here in a puddle on the sidewalk?
I could have been mortified if I’d given myself that luxury but I knew I had to be quick. Without breaking stride, I scooped up the panties with my right hand and tossed them into my handbag. Then I marched ahead, head held high, pretending that my panties hadn’t fallen out of my pant leg on a crowded street in downtown Sonoma.
I didn’t say a word to Andrew but I wanted to tell someone. After my massage I called Russ and asked him to join me for a latte at the Sunflower Cafe on the opposite end of the square. When I told him what happened, he said, “Did anyone notice?” I have no idea. I don’t know how much attention a pink satin and black lace panty would get on the square but I didn’t make any eye contact with anyone. I didn’t turn my head. I was like that line on the GPS heading for its destination. “You have reached your destination on the right hand side.” The doors to Massage Envy couldn’t have come soon enough.
So here’s what I think happened. When I took off my jeans the night before, the bedroom was dimly lit and I was very tired. In one quick move I lodged my fingers inside the unzipped jeans and pulled them straight down. Then I folded them loosely and placed them on top of my sock box. They didn’t need laundering and they didn’t need to be put away because I would most likely wear them the next day.
What I didn’t realize is that when I slid the jeans down over my hips, I was sliding my underwear down too. They somehow nestled inside a leg of the jeans and waited there all night. Then in the late morning when I went to put the jeans on, the underwear was hiding inside my pant leg.
These are not tight jeans; they’re more of a relaxed fit. The underwear could have fallen out anywhere: in the bedroom, in the kitchen as I grabbed the keys, in the garage, maybe even right next to the car once I’d parked it. But no, those panties were happy right where they were…until they weren’t. They chose the bustling streets of downtown Sonoma to break free and make a run for it.
I guess if panties falling out of my pant leg had to happen, I’m glad it was a super cute pair. (I’m looking for a silver lining here.) Heaven forbid it would have been my laundry day undies. You know the pair I’m talking about. They’re the ones that are languishing at the bottom of your panty drawer; motivating you to do laundry, do laundry now.
I want to save you from this embarrassment. How? Well, I can offer some helpful hints. I think it might be best to get undressed with the lights on. Move more slowly through this final wardrobe moment of the day. Look for your undies and throw them in the laundry. Then go ahead and fold your jeans and plan to wear them tomorrow if you like.
With Halloween just around the corner, you don’t want to give those prankster panties an opportunity to play tricks on you.