Tuesday, August 01, 2006

From the depths of hell (AKA my closet)

I found an amazing black silk skirt! I forgot I owned it. It was on a hanger just hanging out, but for some reason had slipped the corner of my mind which holds my pathetic inventory of clothes. It was like Christmas in July (or the first day of August to be exact). I put it on and it fit, wasn't wrinkled, didn't smell, and actually went with a top I had been wanting to wear for a while. I looked cute, it was long and flowy, and I was ready for work. Even walking down the street I felt good about my choice. I think it made me look taller, or thinner, or blonder, or something...

I get to work and soak in the compliments. "Is that new?" and "What a great outfit?" reaffirmed my confidence that I was looking good. Man, why didn't I have a date tonight? Damn. All this wasted on an office of ladies. Ladies who love me, yes. But nonetheless, not the kind of love I'm talking about. After a few hours of work, I get up from my desk and go to the bathroom. I'm in there smoothing out my skirt in front of the mirror and I run my hands over the back of my skirt and there it is. The Biggest. Rip. Ever. It's across my right butt cheek and even better...I decided to go commando today. No panties. I had my reasons. It's hot outside and the silk picked up panty lines like crazy...even on a thong. Now I panic. There's something empowering about not wearing panties and being the only one who knows, but there is something heart stopping about knowing your ass is hanging out at work and everyone can know.

I leave the bathroom and whisper to my co-worker, "Hey, do we have a sewing kit here?"
"No, dude. Why?"
"Look!" (I do the spin and she sees the damage)
"Go down to production, maybe they take a sewing kit out on shoots?" she suggests.
"Why do they need a sewing kit?" I ask.
"Who knows. But I can see your butt. Doesn't hurt to ask."
"Good point."

I walk down to production and find another co-worker who I've worked with on a few shows. Reliable. Trustworthy. A girl. Thank God! "Hey I was wondering if we have a sewing kit here?"
"Why would we have a sewing kit?"
"You know for shoots...and stuff."
"What stuff? Why would the camera guys need to sew?"
I explained the situation as delicately and quietly as possible. She came up with two options for me. One, was to staple the damn hole shut with a stapler. The second option was to use electrical tape. The thought of stapling a skirt and making a big hole bigger wasn't as appealing as just doing damage control with black electrical tape. If anyone wants to be stared at during a mundane day at the office, then let me highly suggest walking to the women's room with a large roll of electrical tape and a pair of scissors. You will be noticed.

I walk in there and get to work. The tape isn't sticking to the silk skirt. DAMN. The only thing that works is if I stick the electrical tape directly on to my skin. Come on!!! So now here I am, sitting at my desk with a 2 by 2 square of electrical tape on my left butt cheek. Classy. Suddenly, I don't feel as cute as I did earlier.


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