Saturday, April 28, 2012

Dress Malfunction

A few weeks ago (or maybe longer...) I had kind of an incident. I'm able to laugh about it now... but previously that was not the case!

Allow me to set the stage: my employer buys our clothes for work... even though I love my own clothes, it has its benefits that they provide them (I never have to wonder what I'm going to wear). On this particular day, I was wearing the black button up dress. It's kind of like a shirt dress (though it is in the trash now...). The dress buttons all the way up and has a sash to tie in front. I actually liked this dress... it looked less "worky" than the rest of our clothes.
kind of like this one.. but not. (I just googled this photo...it's from About.com)
 Apparently this was the kind of day where we were so slammed in the front office, none of us even looked at each other. We were either busy with our heads down working, or talking strangers into living at our community.

I had a young guy come to look for an apartment with his girlfriend. We spent a good 30 minutes together looking at several apartments out on the property... talking, laughing, making it not seem weird that we're all going to look at empty apartments (as long as I've done this... it's still a little uncomfortable to walk into a vacant apartment with a stranger... I can't explain it). It was also a windy day.

When we got back to the office, the guy wanted to step out and take a phone call... his girlfriend went with him, and I decided it was time for a quick bathroom break. As soon as I walked in the bathroom - I saw my exposed lady-bits.

My dress was unbuttoned down past my bra all the way where the sash ties in the middle. I was immediately mortified.

I tried to stand at angles in the mirror to see if maybe they couldn't have noticed....all the while my face bright red. So red. 

They DEFINITELY noticed. I mean... they could have given you details about my bra.

Now, I understand that I didn't like... nip slip them or anything... BUT STILL!!! I flashed these people... in empty apartments... out on a golf cart IN THE WIND, laughing, talking.... oh my gosh....

None of my coworkers had noticed... I hadn't noticed... I quickly buttoned up my dress (which I discovered had a stretched button hole... I need a new dress) - when the two prospects came back in I apologized and explained to them that "that's not how I typically get leases"... there was some more rambling "I'm so sorry... " "I'm a married, modest woman".... "I'm so embarrassed" ... and so on.

The guy went on to tell me that he had noticed but his girlfriend didn't... and he wasn't sure if he should tell me because he thought it might be on purpose. I assured him that it was absolutely not on purpose.. and that in the future he should feel free to tell a victim of stretched button holes!

The least he could have done was tell his girlfriend to tell me... my douche-bag radar immediately went off.

He did lease an apartment with me on the spot.. and moved in that day.

My ego would have been, admittedly, more bruised if he hadn't leased. Don't judge me.

I suppose I was due a flush-myself-down-the-toilet moment.

Last night I was out with my husband.. and this friendly couple + 1 were sitting behind us (it was perfect porch eating/drinking weather, by the way). She was nice enough to ask if I cared that she smoked... which of course I did, but she was nice enough to ask and there was enough of a breeze... I decided I didn't care too terribly bad that she wanted a cigarette.

Right before we left, she came back from the bathroom with her dress tucked into her panties.

For a split second, my sangria splashed brain said "that is hilarious!"... and then I remembered how relieved I would have been if someone had told me about my exposed breasts that windy day... I leaned back and whispered in her ear... she thanked me, corrected the situation.. and her fellow never noticed.

I hope the clothing karma gods saw my act and will behave in the future. Is that how it works? Eh. Probably not. Stupid, stupid stretched button hole.

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