Let me explain how I managed to have so many embarrassing moments in the span of just a few days. But first—your guesses (poor participation levels, people, but there were some good ones nonetheless).
For Embarrassing Moment A, Nancy from Blissed-Out Grandma guessed, “A friend held a lingerie party in a small-town bar? Or you were helping out a poor young woman who was selling everything in her suitcase to get bus fare out of town.” Ha! I especially like the fare idea. Pete (my dear dad) suggested this Charlie Daniels song as the soundtrack.
What really happened?
Recently, I went with the kids and my mom to visit my grandma in small-town Northern Minnesota. During the trip, I got a message that my sister-in-law wanted us to pick up something special for her. No problem, right? But what she wanted was a pair of thong underwear from the local muni. “What?!” I thought, “The muni sells lingerie?”
The panties were to be a gift for a special bachelorette—quite appropriate since the gift-giver and the recipient have a fun, some might say wild, history in said small town. I might have been involved in some of those summertime antics myself, back in the day.
So, in broad daylight on a weekday afternoon, I opened the door to a boxy building on the main drag marked “LIQUOR” while my mother and children waited in the car. Seasoned locals sat at the bar, watching sports in the dark and nursing your basic shit beer. Immediately, my eyes were drawn to the merchandise hanging above the bar.
With a shy smile, I asked the well-inked woman behind the counter for a black thong. “For a bachelorette,” I assured her. She nodded as she passed me a pair of hot-pink-lettered panties. In addition to the name of the muni, they read, “Come for one, stay for the fun.” What’s not to love about that?
For Embarrassing Moment B, Nancy guessed, “A gust of wind caught your skirt? Or you’ve lost weight and your pants fell down.” Close. Here’s what really happened.
One sunny evening, I set out with both dogs to walk our favorite loop. I was enjoying the scenery, though the dogs made things a bit less relaxing with their tendency to overreact to basically every stimulus. People on skates, rabbits—you name it. As a large dreadlocked man jogged slowly past us from behind, I gave him a look that said, “Sorry, dude. My dogs are crazy.”
We crossed a major intersection at the height of rush hour, and at the next corner, an elderly woman started yelling at me from her car window. I held up my poop bag and shook it as if to say, “See, Lady? I’m picking it up!” She looked concerned, and as I walked a few steps closer to her car, I could hear her more clearly. She wasn’t yelling about poop.
“Miss! Miss! Your skirt is tucked into your underwear in the back!” I looked over my shoulder to assess the damage, and sure enough—my gray cotton skirt was tucked all the way into the waistband of my yellow polka-dot bikini underpants, which were itsy-bitsier and teeny-weenier than I would have liked at that moment. Oh, well. I’d only walked A MILE like that.
To be continued…
There’s still time to guess on C and D