I bought this new skirt. It’s white, it’s bright, it’s summery. It falls just above my knees. The perfect length, I think, for a summer skirt. It’s not too long and not too short. Too long and I’d look like a grandmother. Too short, I’d look like a hooker. I can even do cartwheels in it if I want. If I could. Well, you know, if I could do a cartwheel without ending up on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance being hauled off to the ER for breaking my spine. Because I’m not that limber. I’m gymnastically challenged. And almost 40. So I don’t do cartwheels. But if I did, nobody would see my underwear because technically, my white skirt is a skort; it has shorts sewn in underneath, but it looks like a skirt on the outside. So I don’t need to wear a slip and I don’t have sit with my knees pressed together (nothing to see there folks, shorts in the way, sorry). It also lays well, has a flat front, and so far, I haven’t stained it. Best of all, it looks good on me!
There’s just one… tiny little… totally irritating problem. What’s the problem, you ask? This skort has a side zipper. And 3 buttons, on the side, over the zipper. Two of the buttons are the hidden kind, hidden under the waistband on the inside of the skort. Under the best of circumstances hidden buttons like these can be a little… tricky. Move them to the side of the skirt and they may as well be a combination lock of some sort. The third button is your run-of-the-mill “button on the outside” kind of button. Still, it’s on the side of the skort as well.
The side zipper is a great design feature in that it doesn’t interfere with the lines of the skirt. But it’s awful when you have to use the bathroom. It’s even worse when you (and by you I mean me) have to go really, really, really badly. Like when you’ve sat at your desk working and pretending you don’t have to pee so you can finish this one thing and then that one thing and just one more phone call and that other little thing… Only THEN it’s suddenly an EMERGENCY not unlike those commercials where they sing… “gotta go gotta go gotta go right now…”
I mean, really! Have you ever tried to unzip a side zipper when you are doubled over with your legs crossed trying not to wet yourself as you hop up and down? It’s much easier to undo entrapments like side zippers and hidden buttons when you are standing still, standing calmly, and standing erect. That is to say, when you are not doubled over in an attempt to kink your urinary hose so it won’t spill the contents of your bladder all over the floor.
If this was a skirt, I’d be able to yank the whole thing up with one hand, shove down my undies with my other hand, and just… pee. Ah, the relief, you know?
But nooooo. Since there are shorts here, the only way out is down, and the only way down is to undo the multitude of buttons and then the zipper on the side. But I’m short and maybe a few pounds too wide, and not so limber (can’t do cartwheels, remember?). I’ve found that turning to the side to unzip and unbutton this pretty little skort really seems to require the skills of a circus performer, or a magician. A contortionist, perhaps.
I’m kicking myself now for not getting in on the yoga craze. It might have helped. I could start now, I suppose, but I imagine by the time I got limber enough to twist my upper torso sideways and undo this skort in a jiffy, Fall would be upon us, or maybe even Winter, and well, I can’t wear a white skort then, can I? That would be a clear and utter violation of the fashion rules and I certainly don’t want to be fined.
So imagine, there I was, having waited so long to use the facilities that I was desperate. I bolted down the hall, praying not to run into anybody looking to stop me with a question. Yet at the same time, praying I would run into someone I could accost and demand they undo the buttons and the zipper for me. I wouldn’t have asked them to pull the skort down, mind you, just unhook all the fastenings. Similar to how you might have someone help you unzip the back of a dress, you know? But I was at work, and that wouldn’t have been appropriate.
Still as I half walked, half ran down the hallway I envisioned the whole scene in my mind: barking to someone “Help! Unzip me now! FAST. Come on, come on… Hurry up, Franklin! If you don’t make it snappy I’m going to pee right here, right now, and the puddle will be so large it will seep onto your shoes!” Only there was nobody there. The hallway was deserted.
Too bad for me, the bathroom stalls weren’t. There are three of them and like some cosmic joke they were all taken! So I stood there, cross legged, hopping ever so slightly, bent nearly in half hoping and praying and muttering to myself as I unfastened and unzipped and very nearly removed the entire skort “hold it… hold it… I told you that you should have gone an hour ago…” And then, at the last second, a stall opened and I dashed inside and vowed to never again buy something with a side zipper and hidden buttons. Or, given the clothing designs these days, if that’s not possible, I’ll look for a skort with depends sewn in, rather than shorts. Too bad that still won’t enable me to do a cartwheel.
Running With Books 