From time to time in my post-college life I have waitressed at The Berry Patch to make ends meet. For those who don't know, my parents are partners in that restaurant, and have been since it began in about 1990 or so.
The following is an e-mail I sent out in August of 2002, after the first baby and just before getting pregnant the second time. I wish I could blame the incident on being pregnant, but I can't. It's all me. As for the title, well, I see a trend here, and since I do humiliating things on a regular basis with great gusto, there will likely be more where this came from. Enjoy.
My Latest Humiliation, Or, An Argument Against Thong Underwear
Well hello again.
Been a while since I publicly humiliated myself (at least, any more than I do every waking day of my life just by showing up), and I'm facing my fear head-on to reduce The Cringe Factor. I'm telling y'all about it, whether you like it or not. So there.
In an effort to reduce ironing (have you ever tried to iron clothes with a toddler hanging on you?) I devised an ingenious plan: Wear clothes that are WAY too tight. Those wrinkles don't know what hit 'em.
So Friday night, an hour before heading in to town to pour coffee and schlep burgers at The Berry Patch, I crammed my Nutty Professor-sized hiney into a size 12 black skirt I've had for years but never worn. "Honey, be honest," I pleaded. "Are people gonna point and stare at the human sausage?" I'm sure this sentence has been asked before, and it makes even the most macho man run screaming into the night. But I had to be sure.
"Why, no, dear," replied Good Ol' Chas. "You look great." Brownie points. Hubby treats. Gold stars.
"Well, just in case I turn blue from sucking in my stomach, I'm bringing a pair of pants to change into." I wasn't really too worried, because my apron covers my stomach nicely. My stomach . . .
About an hour into my shift, my co-worker, Gale, commented that I looked nice that night. I told her about making Chas evaluate my ensemble, we both laughed about it, and I turned and walked away. "Wait!" hissed Gale. "You've got a problem..."
Have you ever noticed how flimsy the stitching can be in rayon clothes? I don't recommend testing its tensile strength the way I did. Imagine Anna-Nicole Smith* in Kate Moss's skirt; not a pretty picture. But, as I hurriedly took off my apron and wrapped it around my posterior for the trip out to the car to fetch my "just-in-case" pants, I realized with horror that I was wearing -- you guessed it -- a thong. As in undies. For those of you unfamiliar with this garment, see "The Big Fat Book of Girlie Stuff," Chapter 37, "Why Thongs?" pages 345-353.
So I am left to wonder, which of my customers saw more of me than I ever intended? When someone says, "You have a nice smile," do I say thank you or clobber him? Was that coin innocently dropped at my feet, or was the cook playing quarters with me?
I feel better already. Now it's YOUR nightmare. Peace.
*She was alive and hefty at the time of this original writing.
I think its her ass that makes her ass look big.
Posted by: Shower Stalls | February 11, 2010 at 10:08 AM
Oooooooo K, maybe she's got a German Shepard thats fond of her........
Posted by: Poot Von GottBlutt | February 19, 2008 at 09:24 AM
OK, so just how does that uhh, uhhh, (loss for words) whatever, wipe her butt? I can't imagine her arm being long enough even if she went by the 'great circle' route.
woof!
Posted by: Where to hide during a Nuklear attack | February 19, 2008 at 07:38 AM
Oye , Oye, Oye!
Posted by: Poots | February 18, 2008 at 12:54 PM
Oh no, not wearin' the thongs lately. "Tightly-strung pork roast" about describes it, shudder.
Sorry, Poots -- go over to Annie's and let loose!
Posted by: foolery | February 18, 2008 at 12:30 PM
I'm really tryin hard to stay quiet on this one
Posted by: Poots is sweating bullits | February 18, 2008 at 11:54 AM
What -- no backless panties? You are fierce for wearing the butt-floss: I'm too scared to attempt, as I also suspect I'd look like a strung-up pork roast. A fatty, strung-up pork-roast.
Posted by: The Mom Bomb | February 18, 2008 at 11:18 AM
Personally I am a granny pany kind of girl. I am already pretty uptight so one more thing up my ass always agitated me. But you should always wear what you feel comfortable in.
Mr. Von Snarky just came home recently with his wholepocket of his butt pocket torn off. It was like his butt was trying to escape.
My most embarrasing wardrobe malfunction would have to be the first day of seventh grade, I was wearing bright white new overalls, and I started my period. I don't think I need to say anymore. about that.
Posted by: Ava Von Snarky | February 18, 2008 at 09:21 AM
Tink I gonna just keep my mouth shut on this one.
Posted by: Snorpht of E. Mesa | February 18, 2008 at 08:57 AM
Oh, sigh, I remember when I could still wear a twelve. Whimper. In, umm...elementary school.
As for wearing the thong, as they say in the South: Well bless your heart!
I've never worn one, not even when I could have done so without looking like a tightly-strung pork roast. Aren't they uncomfortable? Like an all day wedgie?? Better you than me, sugar!
At least you were smart enough to pack an alternative.
Shade and Sweetwater,
K
Posted by: Kyddryn | February 18, 2008 at 06:29 AM
I think any woman in the midst of gestating can be forgiven a wardrobe malfunction!
Chas gets points for surviving the question, but a huge deduction for not saying "while I appreciate your rear view, are you sure you want to leave the house like that"!
Posted by: Asthmagirl | February 18, 2008 at 06:14 AM