Unintentional Wardrobe Malfunction

Yes, I had an unannounced, unplanned, unanticipated, and probably unnecessary hiatus from posting here for a while.  I sure did get a lot done, though.  I'd make a list it would be boring and redundant because it would look something like this:

Complete Unit 3
Take Unit 3 Test
Play Gig in Redneck Dive in Next County
Complete Unit 4
Complete Unit 4 Partner Assignment
Spend a day in the recording studio
Take Unit 4 Test
Complete Unit 5
Take Unit 5 Test
Play Gig for Fire Chief's Party
Spend another day in the recording studio
Complete Unit 6
Take Unit 6 Test

And so forth with all the Nursing Reentry Program coursework and the gigs and the recording ad nauseum.  You could toss in a trip to my sister's house in Austin for good measure, but that would only eat up 24 hours of my unexplained blogging absence, albeit a welcome departure from the School/Recording Studio/Gig monotony that has become my life.

Actually, I'm making it all sound more boring that it's really been. But not by much.  There have been a few weirdities.  Like my wardrobe malfunction at last Saturday's gig.  Which I am, of course, about to relate to you, dear readers.

Hot!  So I wore shorts.  In hindsight, I wish I'd worn a skirt, but it was pretty breezy that evening, so there might have been more hindsight than anyone cared to witness.

I tend to prefer loose, semi-baggy shorts.  (No, not SAG!  tsk)  We were outdoors on a ranch - the Fire Chief's place. Around the house/swimming pool/yard was all fenced and over the backside of the fence were all these black cows with their ears tagged, watching us the whole time with their big ol' cow eyes until it finally got too dark for me to see them. Beyond them was more cows and pasture land.  Beyond that, more cows.  Yeah, this is out in the country. Tons of kids.  Great food. We played atop a big, flatbed trailer, which can be fun.  Good gig!  Once I got past the wardrobe malfunction, that is.

When we were setting up, I went to step off the flatbed trailer we played on to get my bass. I heard rrrrriiiiiiiippppp!!!!  Looked down.  The the front of my shorts had a hole bigger than Texas RIGHT UP FRONT.  I wasn't exactly wearing boxers, people.  And no, my bass would not have sufficiently covered the breech in my britches.   And no, they didn't rip along the seam, so needle and thread would have been useless. We're talking one of those big rips with threads criss crossing every which way. I think the cows were the only ones that saw it happen.

I was about 20 minutes from home and we had about 30 minutes before we were supposed to start.   (This is like the ONLY time I don't have spare clothes with me at a gig, right?  I had 2 pair of shoes, though!)  So I jump into my Suburban Assault Vehicle and take off, headed for home, pedal to the metal, hoping with all I'm worth that the fire chief had invited the sherriff's department to his party and they were all on their way with their families and not out on patrol.  'Cause I'm driving really fast. 

In town, (I had to go through a town to get from the country back to Far Western Suburbia) when I was stopped at the light, it dawned  on me there was a Target and a Kohl's and Ross and bunch of other stuff right there in front of me. I'm slow like that.  So I run into Kohl's with my little, bitty purse held in front of the great big hole at my crotch, grab the first garment I see hanging inside the store to hold in front of my hole (the purse wasn't going to cut it), race around and grab about 8 pair of shorts - 3 colors, 3 sizes just in case - run in the dressing room and walked out wearing the first pair that fit.  Not FIT fit as in snug - just fit as in comfortable.  I tore the price ticket off and walked up to the checker with my ripped shorts in one hand, the price tag from the new shorts in the other, and my sad story. 

The little guy at the register was adorable.  Young, cute and probably would have been perfectly comfortable as a hair dresser or interior decorator.  I told him what happened, he laughs, rings me up, I go to leave the store and the security alarm goes off at the doors.  The stinkin' security button thing was still attached to me! 

Now the dressing room is clear over there and I'm going to have to put on the holey shorts to bring back the new shorts so they can get the security disc off.  And I'm supposed to take stage in 10 minutes, right? So I asked him if he could get the security do-dad off the back of my shorts (at the waist) with me standing there.  His blue eyes got wide and he got this look on his face that told me that was not going to happen.  As a matter of fact, he looked like he'd rather die than look down the back of my shorts.

Okay, at Kohl's the thing you stick the security gizmo in to get it off is built flat into the counter top.  So no, he can't help me get it off while I'm wearing the shorts.  So I lean backwards over the counter - took me a few tries - with my legs flailing in the air while I gazed furtively up into the security cameras.   I got it off BUT the little disk on the inside of the pants falls downwards. Inside my new shorts.  So, with my back to the security cameras, I stick my hand down the back of the shorts (good thing I don't prefer my clothes skin tight, right?) And I manage to fish it out and hand it to the little checkout guy while reassuring him that it didn't go down there too far.  I didn't want him having any hygiene questions.

Seriously.

I take off for the gig.  Got there just as my bandmates were planning to take the stage without me.  Tuned up and hit the first song before the sweat dried on my brow.

And my bandmates didn't get the story until after the gig when we went to Denny's.  I'm sure I won't live that one down for a while.

Can't imagine what the security folks at Kohl's thought.

Janet Jackson at least had velcro.

I'll be spending today in the recording studio.  Right after I start Unit 7.

Comments

[Steph @Red Clay Diaries]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!!!!

So glad you didn't keep that story to yourself. That is a justification for having a blog if I've ever seen one.

Only thing better is if you could've been there when security viewed the episode to witness their reactions.

[joyce]

I'm sure this was the most excitement Kohls has seen in a while!

[Screwed Up Texan]

I thought about you when I heard on the news last night about a bass guitar being stolen from a church in the DFW area. Glad you posted!

[Kim]

SHUT UP!!! You did not lie down on the counter at Kohls to get the security thingy off -- that is so classic hilarious -- I'll never not be able to think of you now when I see those on the counters at Kohls. :)

[Susanne]

Bwahahahaha. Only to you, friend, this can only happen to you. I so wish you had some pictures. I'll bet you gave the people reviewing security tapes the laugh of their day. But as for the poor young man at the till, he'll probably need a bit of therapy. LOL.

[past tense of dig]

That'll teach ya not to moonlight w/ country bands! Please tell me you kept the old shorts, put them in a glass case and hung them on the wall in your music room.

[Emily Barlean]

That was hilarious! I can't imagine what went through that poor kid's head when you asked him to take the security thing off of your pants while they were on YOU. I bet he had a good time telling his buds about that at break time! :)

[Barb]

THIS is hilarious!! Would love to have been there. I can see you now, recovering that little security button from those shorts. LOL! Man, do you have some funny tales!

[Soph]

Hmm...Having BEEN a part of that gig, I am happy to say, it added quite a bit of humor to the evening. HOWEVER, probably not as much as what the clerk had or his boss when he viewed the tape! OH the joy of being a musician!