McBlog

or Revealing Hidden Assets!

I don’t remember the exact date other than it had been many, many years since I had last shopped the size five rack in the junior department.

However, the location and event are imprinted in my mind not unlike the memory of some tragic and/or traumatic event that I can recall with precise details as to exactly where I was and what I was doing when the shocking news was announced.

I was attending one of Dan’s many musical performances at the elegant, antique, hoity-toity Saenger Theater. I liked to sit in the front row of the balcony so I might be able to catch of glimpse of Dan performing if he were not completely hidden by the tympani or electronic equipment. This night I wasn’t able to nab a seat in the front row balcony, so I settled for third row. The performance was, as usual, outstanding. At the intermission, I made a quick trip to ladies room and then hurried back to the balcony so I would have time to get up close to the balcony railing to stand and drink in the beauty of the art deco and rococo designs that graced the grand old Saenger. I was also hoping see Dan in the pit.

I’m not sure how long I stood there, taking it all in, when I heard a lady's voice whisper quietly in my ear. “excuse me, but”……..(and I’m not totally certain exactly what I heard next, but I got the message loud and clear that the back my flowing tea-length skirt was tucked firmly in the waistband of my panty hose. I had chosen not to wear a slip because my skirt was not sheer and I hated the static cling that a nylon slip can create. So here I stood, exposing my hidden assets to the entire balcony audience.

I felt my face flush and for a few seconds I debated the best course of action. Should I quickly un-tuck my skirt as if nothing had happened and try to regain my dignity, or should I just reach down and pull the front of my skirt over my head and secure my anonymity? Or perhaps this would be an opportune time to simply jump over the balcony ala John Wilkes Booth and make a swift departure out an emergency exit. With as much grace as I could muster, I rearranged my skirt and tried to casually inch my way backward three rows to my seat so I would not have to turn around and face the folks whom I’m sure were enjoying a great snicker on my behalf.

The performance was, as usual, outstanding and I remained in my seat until I was fairly certain that the audience behind me had left the theater. Then I exited as quickly as I could trying to not make eye contact with anyone just in case they had witnessed the moonrise over the balcony.

Needless to say, I am forever vigilant about my exit from the ladies room no matter if I’m at Burger King, or an elegant music performance.