The Young and the Pantsless Meets Genital Hospital
Today I had to make an unexpected trip to see the doctor. On my way out the door, I threw on my only clean clothes, which just happened to be too big jeans and fancy, satiny black panties. I arrived, sans appointment, and proceeded to wait for two hours to be called back. When the nurse finally came out to the waiting room and called my name, I was dozing in the chair and popped up, half in an attempt to look like I hadn’t been napping and half because I was startled. Standing up so quickly disturbed the delicate balancing act and uneasy truce I had with the big pants, plus there was no friction in my favor, because of the slippery underpants, and the jeans and I both fell victim to gravity. I stood, face to face, with a woman in scrubs, pants halfway down to my knees, shrugged, and pulled them up. I’d love to have lived a life where I could pull out this story at parties as “the most embarrassing thing, ever”, but I haven’t. I haven’t lived that life, at all. In fact, I don’t know that it was the most embarrassing thing to happen to me, today.
Still. Damn you, laws of physics.
In other news, my last two columns are awaiting your peepers. This week’s is about the police with pepper spray vs 8 year old Colorado boy and last week’s examines the world’s fascination with Suri Cruise.