This morning when I walked out into the brisk weather to take my dog to go pee, I felt a sense of deja vue when the back door slammed behind me.
BALLS, BALLS, BALLS.
My brained panicked, and anyone who knows me really well, knows I am not the best when I panic. I tried the door first. It was locked. WHY THE HELL WAS IT LOCKED?! I blame the cat. The dog looked at me. I looked at the dog. One of us was going to have to be smarter than this situation, and I was kind of hoping the dog was going to step up. She walked away and immediately dropped a deuce by a tree. Thanks, dog. I love you too.
I was starting to get really cold. My pajama dress wasn’t cutting it. Of course I wasn’t wearing a bra. My boobs were just flailing in the bitter cold like a couple of angry house shoes. Just sad and tattered. Seen better days and would have liked to have been rolled back up into the safety of a bra, but no, I was supposed to be in the shower. NOT stuck outside with a dog taking dump. I was frantic for half a second. I did what I normally do when I get nervous and panicky.
I giggled and bounced in place.
It didn’t help my situation, but it did fix the me being cold. I started sweating. Great. I was about to get in the shower when the dog wanted to go out, so I was gross. My hair was so greasy you could have fried a thousand orders of fries in it. God, why would I look presentable when I knew I was going to have to walk somewhere and talk to people in my hour of humiliation. With no cellphone, no keys, an empty dog, and a cat who was probably plotting on us both I started walking to my landlord’s house.
Yes, it took me that long to decide to go there. I was kind of hoping I could save myself without anyone seeing me, but I had no other options. Me and my house slipper titties were going to on an adventure. Oh, and the dog too.
Thankfully, my landlord’s wife had a key. She gave me a shawl to cover up with because she mistakenly thought I was hugging my chest because I was cold. Nope. I was hugging my chest to hide my no bra shame. I already looked like a grease ball mess. I didn’t want to add no bra to the list. I was just glad I was wearing shoes.
Oh, did I mention my pajamas were inside out? They were. Why? Because I do not care. They are pajamas for crying out loud. You sleep in them. What does it matter if it’s right side out or not? Unfortunately, it matters when other people are going to see me in said pajamas, greasy french fry hair, and house slipper titties. Thank God for the shoes. All of my dignity was in those shoes. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had.
I’ve learned some things about myself today.
- I don’t wear bras at important moments when bras are critical.
- My hair produces an insane amount of grease in a short amount of time. If I’m not careful it’s going to start a grease fire one day.
- The cat is an asshole. I cannot trust him.
- The dog isn’t any help “in the clutch”. Also, she doesn’t understand when you scream ” You aren’t any help IN THE CLUTCH”!
- My husband isn’t as surprised as he should be when I tell him “I got locked outside and my titties were swinging freely again”. Like, didn’t even bat an eyelash. That reflects poorly on us both, I think.
- I really, really, really need to get one of those fake rocks to hide a key under because this isn’t the first time this has happened. Last time I was barefoot without a bra. The shame leaked out at an alarming rate since there were no shoes to catch, and hold my dignity.