| Fango |
01-28-2009 06:20 PM |
Real-life ENF Story Found on Blog
xanderlee.livejournal.com/16904.html
Quote:
Me: Accidental Super Trashy
Ok, so I get dressed for work today and realize I've fresh run out of clean laundry, so I decide to wear an 8-year vintage Laura Ashley skirt (people who actually know me would be shocked by this info, but the skirt is black and really long, so it's OK). Go to work, realize men on the street are double-taking me. I'm covered head to toe in either black or burgandy, carrying a briefcase, so I figure it can't be my unsurpassed gorgeousness that's causing all this attention, but I can't figure out what it is. Go about work as usual. Head home to the Mission (for those who don't know SF, the Mission is FILLED with sketchy men who follow single females around and actually try to touch them without permission). Get out of the subway when this girl approaches me and says, "I don't mean to alarm you, but the back of your skirt is completely see-through and all these weird guys are following you right now." So, I realize 3 things simultaneously: (1) the skirt's so old that the fabric has started to wear away, (2) I've conducted business meetings in this state of expose, and (3) I have 5 mean, tough blocks to walk home before I'm safe. It went worse than I expected. At one point this whole bunch of men started hooting and shrieking, "Oh, Loooordy, she's wearing a thong!"
I'm usually the first one naked at any party, but suddenly I became super, super body-conscious. I went home and (1) started laundry, and (2) cleaned out my entire closet of old clothes. I'm preparing my most ultra-conservative outfit to wear to work tomorrow and just hoping people will forget.
So, anyone else, ever had an embarrassing experience quite like that (and I do mean "em-bare-assing")?
Wait, now that I think about, I had one just as bad 4 years ago:
I was wearing an Indian sari wrap-around skirt to a party and (once again) was out of laundry so I didn't wear underwear. As I was going up the stairs to the party, someone stepped on the string that held my skirt together, broke it, and there I was, truly bare-ass naked!
Moral of the story: Control your laundry, don't let your laundry control you.
PS -- I just realized that today I LIVED the dreaded naked at school/work/family reunion/criminal trial dream! Holy shit!
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Fango |
