Friday Funny

Some days are so busy, I work straight through lunch. Sometimes I sneak out for a few moments to run an errand and just get away from my desk for a few minutes.

Such was the case the day I had to make a deposit before paying my mortgage.

I was standing in line at the bank, waiting for a teller, when the unthinkable happened. The drawstring in my full, circular peasant skirt inexplicably broke. I was able to catch the skirt before it literally fell to my feet, but I had no way to fix it or even temporarily pin it. Of course. Life's Most Embarrassing Moments never happen when it's convenient.

The line of customers didn’t phase me one bit when I first joined it. Now, however, time seemed to stand still. I could hear one teller counting change; I think her customer must have been depositing 6,000 pennies, one at a time. The other teller busily itemized a stack of checks from a zipper bag for a massive commercial deposit. The stack of checks looked three inches thick. What business are they in, I wondered. I should be in that business!

A saying my mom used to spout off all the time when my younger siblings and I grew impatient came to mind.

"Just hold your britches," Mom would scold us.

If I'd had a free hand, I might have called to tell her I was holding my... well, not britches, but she'd get the idea. I can still imagine how hysterically she would have laughed. (When I shared this story with The Lizard, he nearly fell out of his chair laughing.)

The waistline of my skirt felt as if it was growing by the mile, and it was becoming more and more difficult to hold in place, even though I was trying not to move at all. Suddenly, another teller entered the lobby and began counting her drawer. Then another.

"Oh, great," I thought to myself. "Some one is monitoring the lobby and sent two more tellers out because the line is so long, and this is all being recorded, and here I am trying to keep my skirt from falling off. Live on Candid Camera." (The Lizard said he'd pay high dollar for this tape. But maybe I shouldn't disclose that...)

When I finally made it back to my office, I rummaged through my desk looking for a safety pin. When that search came up unproductive, I realized I always have at least one crochet hook in my commute bag. And yarn. Or thread. Something in that bag will work!

Five minutes later, I emerged from an empty office a new woman. Confidence restored. But I still think I’ll never wear that skirt again.

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