Monday, March 16, 2009

Most embarrassing moment, Part I

Isn't it funny how you can remember such small details about events in your life that you wish would never have happened? And the biggest, most life-changing events sometimes are the hardest to remember?

Right after my mission, I got a job working in the mall. I was a poorly paid (and I mean POORLY paid) assistant manager at Jay Jacobs--a store that specialized in junior's apparel.

There was a strict-ish dress code, but fortunately you were not required to exclusively wear clothes from the store, unlike other mall stores. I remember that sleeves, socks or stockings, and close-toed shoes were required.

I obviously didn't have a problem with the sleeves, but socks and stockings were just no fun. Our store was trying to save money since the company had filed for bankruptcy and several stores had already closed. Plus the air conditioner was on the fritz, so we kept the store a lot warmer than is recommended in the middle of a Tucson summer.

I can remember distinctly what I wore to work on the day of "The Incident." A long, dusty-pink, broomstick skirt, with an off-white raw silk t-shirt and a vest that was made of what appeared to be upholstery fabric. Remember those? This was the summer of 1994, when these items were still somewhat fashionable.

My skirt came down, almost to my ankles, so I had contemplated not wearing any hosiery. I was, afterall, the assistant manager. The big-wig of the day, so no one was going to report me. And no one could have possibly seen that I wasn't wearing hosiery anyway.

Heck. If anyone had said something, I just would have to reply, "Oh, I'm wearing white nylons." No one would have known the difference. Really--I'm that white!

But, I decided against it. But I sure as heck wasn't going to wear full-on nylons. No sir!

And I really think knee-highs are the worlds worst invention.

So I decided to wear my thigh-highs. They were fancy!

There was a strip of silicone on the inside to keep them up and they worked like a charm.

Until I decided to get lunch.

I was walking down the mall to the "food court." (I use that term loosely since this mall had only a couple of food options and none of them were close together. Hence not much food was to be had. And it certainly wasn't in any kind of court. But I digress.)

I felt my stockings start to slip a little. But I couldn't walk down the mall, with my hands on my thighs, hiking up my stockings. That would cause a scene.

So I decided to walk a little faster, make it to the "snack area," and strategically tug at my hosiery from a seated position. No one would notice that!

Walk, walk, walk.

Ok, they're slipping more.

Trot, trot, trot.

Oh no! They are sliding rather quickly.

Run, run, run.

Ok. Maybe no one has noticed, but I think they are around my ankles.

Clearly, since no one can see this, they won't know that I have saggy, elephant skin. Whew! (Oh, the denial!)

I'll just hurry a little faster and no one will the the wiser.

Oh crap!

The right one has slid past my ankle. I think it is trying to come off.

Good thing my shoe is still on. It will keep things ok.

What the heck?!

The left one has now turned itself inside-out, over my shoe, and is flapping in front of me.

Surely, no one sees.

Holy Hannah!

The right one is also inside-out, over my shoe, and is flapping in front of me.

Yeah, I guess this must look ridiculous.

Some chick is walking in the mall, with 3-foot long nylons that look an awful lot like streamers, coming out of her feet.

I rather discreetly take off my shoes, slide them out of the inside-out nylon thigh-highs, take off the hosiery, replace my shoes, and keep walking down the mall.

I think I only skip about 2 beats.

Then I throw those horrible creatures in the garbage.

Yeah. It's great to know all the details of life's embarrassing experiences.

It's your turn to share one of yours.

Oh, and as you can see from the title of this post...I have plenty to share.

2 comments:

The Ingermansons said...

You so make me laugh! I can't remember ever hearing this one!

Emily said...

I hate nylons; but not nearly as much as I hate support hose. Those are terrible.

My most embarrassing moment is almost too embarrassing to post. Let's just say it involved some...er, bodily fluid and being on a date. Yeah. Not good.