I’ve thought long and hard about posting this lest I offend any of you. However … after a discussion with a friend … here goes:
I was putting my shopping in the back of the car in the supermarket car park when another car drew up and parked in the space but one from where I was parked.
Out stepped Lily; and she got her small dog held by a lead out of the car.
Lily is a vivacious bubbly late-twenties young lady friend of mine whom I hadn’t seen for about a year or so. She’s always smiling and laughing contagiously with an infectious joie-de-vivre which few people possess.
She recognised me and said “Hello” staying by her car so that her small dog, just as bubbly as her, would not jump at me.
We talked for a while facing each other next to our respective cars, reminiscing about old times and enquiring about the well-being of family and friends.
Suddenly a violent gust of wind lifted Lily’s flowing short skirt right up to her chest, revealing, for reasons best known to herself, that she was wearing no underwear.
Why do some women not wear any underwear?
I’m not asking this in a disapproving sort of way; I’m just asking for any reasons which may have escaped me. Perhaps someone would enlighten me. Is it very widespread a practice?
Anyway … up went her skirt and she half-heartedly and totally unsuccessfully tried to get it down with one hand whilst trying to control her dog, handbag and hat with the other. The dog became somewhat fractious in this Marilyn Monroe moment and made her attempts at a modicum of modesty entirely fruitless.
At one stage the dog ran round behind her causing her to pirouette 360 degrees like a dancing ballerina on a jewellery box with skirt still aloft.
I did not know what to do and stood there watching.
I could hardly approach her and try to control the skirt – totally inappropriate. I was too busy holding on to my cowboy hat with feather in case it flew off my head and into nearby bushes. The feather was quite ruffled, I tell you!
Eventually, the wind got tired of teasing her and blew away laughing quietly.
There was a moment or two of silence and then to my amazement and surprise she giggled and said, “I didn’t embarrass you? Did I?”
I didn’t know what to say. What is the etiquette of embarrassment in such situations?
“Ehmmm …” I mumbled, “I have a very bad memory!”
I really don’t know why I said such a stupid thing. Which was totally untrue since the image of that incident is still imprinted on my mind.
To keep the conversation flowing she continued, “Did you like my navel stud? It’s a real diamond!”
I nodded reassuringly and said nothing, even though at the time I was certainly not focussing on her navel.
She waved goodbye saying, “We should do this again some time!” presumably referring to having a friendly chat.
I’m still pondering whether to confess the situation to the priest or just tell him I lied about my bad memory.
