wardrobe malfunction

what kind of girl am i you ask? obviously, it's what's on everyone's mind these days. but since you asked, i'll tell you.

i am the type of girl who wears black panties under tan pants. unintentionally, of course, not that it matters one bit now.

mornings are hazardous to my health and career. bumbling around the house, trying to feed the dogs with one eye open, not getting locked outside if the door closes behind me when i bring them in. getting dressed in the morning should not pose such hazardous results.

but it does.

getting dressed in the morning is like playing a slot machine in my closet -- pull back the arm to see if i win big. clean clothes, in sizes that fit, without any wardrobe malfunctions or oddly-paired combinations. we have a winner.

this morning, i pulled back the arm and waited:
ding, bar.
ding, bar again.
ding, lemon. so sorry, thanks for playing.

i didn't realize my losing bet (or is it that i am a loser?) until i got to work. yes, i am that girl the others talk about. and by this time, i can't insert another quarter hoping for a better outcome. the wrinkled black pants look pretty good right about now. i just need to face it -- i'm screwed. and i look slutty, ta boot.

my buddy alicia, the only one who i can call in such a situation, recommended a drastic course of action. "you gotta go commando. you have no other choice."

but i do another option. i can walk proudly and ignore the stares that follow me as i walk away. or run. quickly. to the victoria's secret on walnut street as soon as it opens.