which reminds me…
why didn’t any of you tell me that i had that chiwawa dangling by its teeth from my behind? i would have sat on the poor thing…
I feel your pain.
When I was about 12 or so and went to FL to visit my grandfather with my dad and brother, I spent ALL FUCKING DAY walking around NASA with my bright pink underwear pulled up past my shorts waistband. My tshirt managed to get tucked into the waistband of said underwear as well.
I was so excited to see the NASA stuff that I was at least three steps ahead of my dad and brother ALL FUCKING DAY. Did I mention it was BRIGHT PINK?
My mom still laughs about it to this day and says “If I had been there you wouldn’t have walked around like that.”
We probably wouldn’t have left our wet socks in the rental car overnight to dry, thus resulting in a Very Offensive Odor when we returned it at the end of said trip either, but that’s another story.
I feel good knowing that I told a girl on campus once that her skirt was tucked into her pantyhose. My man and I were on a bench talking, and as this girl approached we could see everyone in her wake just pointing and laughing behind her back. We didn’t know why until she strode past us, confident as a supermodel, with her entire ass hanging out. (No undies)
I laughed pretty hard, but she was heading into a building and presumably into class, so I jumped up fast and caught her right inside the doorway. I just said “Look, I don’t think anyone else saw, but your skirt is tucked into your hose- you’ll wanna fix that” She was mortified, but not as bad as she would have been if she’d kept on into the building full of students and into class.
I remember when I was an elementary ed major, I was doing some observation in a classroom. I was going around helping the students and one little girl wanted my attention, but she wouldn’t say anything until I came right over to her desk. Then she whispered in my ear that I had the dread VPL: Visible Panty Line.
I was mortified-because there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. (I had borrowed a pair of my mom’s pants that day).
EEW you borrowed your mom’s underpants? I think that’s more mortifying!
(Teehee. I know what you meant. :))
LOL…I hadn’t even thought of that!
They were an ugly pair of old lady brown dress pants, but I didn’t have anything else to wear that day.
This story reminds me of what happened to me yesterday. I had just gotten off work and was walking across campus to meet my guy when someone tapped my shoulder and informed me that my bookback had caused my skirt to hike up over my butt. Fortunately I was wearing underwear. Needless to say, I ducked into a bathroom and changed into shorts right fast. I was a bit embarrassed, but not too bad. It’s actually funny now that I think of it.
Zette, you’re a good woman.
I did that when I was 12 years old at a funeral. Thankfully my mom saw me before anyone else did and I got the dress untucked.
Oh, please. We all know they’re looking at my ass. It’s a thing of beauty.
Seriously, these are very nice, kind people, and I really don’t think any of them (and some in particular) wouldn’t have a problem saying, “Hey, tuck in your pocket, dude!” In fact one co-worker of mine I specifically told to tell me if I’d forgotten to button my collar, but sadly, she’s moved on to another position. I guess I’ll need to find another fashion buddy.
Esprix
I didn’t really think you’d willingly spend your days in some ogforsaken place populated with folks too ignorant to appreciate your ass, Esprix.
Since we’re sharing old Smacked Ass stories, though… I thought I’d trot mine out. It’s a really old one – I was in grade one.
I was wearing a “western-style” brown, yellow, and orange plaid shirt, which you’d think would have been embarassing enough on its own, but, inexplicably, that was the style at the time, so I fit right in.
My moment of mortification came when I left the boys’ room, and confidently made my way back to class. The hallway was empty, save for two teachers, who collapsed into helpless laughter as I walked past them. I mean this literally-- they sort of fell into each other, braying.
Then I looked down and realized that about eight inches of bunched up shirt-tail was sticking straight out from my fly, looking for all the world like some enormous brown, yellow and orange plaid cock.
While they didn’t deliberately draw my attention to it, I’m glad they happened to be there, because while they never said a word about it, I doubt that I’d have fared so well with 30 six- and seven-year-olds.
(I still have anxiety dreams from time to time, in which I’m back in that hallway, and when the teachers start laughing, I look down to see that everything’s tucked in, and I’m left knowing that something is amiss, but… what? I’d really hate to let a freudian analyst get a shot at that one. “So… you look down and that which you expect to see is not there, yes?” “That’s not the point.” “’‘Not the point’? Interesting.” )
Hey, I walked around all day at work one day this week with both back pockets hanging out and nobody said a word. Didn’t bother me, though. It also wasn’t the first time - not by a longshot.
Perhaps if I do it enough, I’ll start a new fashion craze: Faux Broke.
Oh, man - this takes me back about four years or so. I knew one of my suits was getting a bit long in the tooth, but I had no idea just how long until my boss’s secretary pointed out that the trousers were ripped.
Four inches ripped. Horizontally. Across my right buttcheek. I was (thank god) wearing underwear, but IIRC they were electric blue Joe Boxers in a “before and after” pattern of pigs and sausages.
When did she tell me this? Why, 4:30 p.m. or so. I had been wandering around for hours looking like I had a freshly smacked ass.
That is what you meant, right 'spree?
See, I got excited before I even opened the thread…
Susan
You mean looking like this?
(|)
Heh, welcome to the board, Lady Eboshi. Excellent user name. But maybe you could do something to placate that screaming baby of yours?
It was supposed to look like a smacked ass. Guess I better work on my ASCII art.
Hate to be the contrarian one here, but there’s no way I’d tell someone their back pockets were sticking out at work. Goodness, I don’t want it to make it sound like I’m staring at a co-worker’s ass!