This morning wasn't so bad, for a Monday.

Other than sweating profusely because I was schlepping my laundry, losing my change, and having to run to catch the damn bus, which inevitably results in boobies and flab flying and lewd whistling by a fine, upstanding member of the Hispanic (thank you) community, it was fine.

Other than having to cross the street and go out of my way in order to avoid the strange man playing Karate Kid with a street sign. Yeah, he was doing the "stork" pose and kung fu fighting a post. And Iiiii can't tell you why.

But this morning was really fine. Other than accidentally dropping my dainty garments in public, that is.

Certainly not as bad as the other week, a Sunday. I had decided, against my better judgment, to go grocery shopping. This is always a mistake.

It is so crowded in there on weekends, one can hardly move. This is a problem because I don't actually like people. I need to take a Wellbutrin just to deal with it.

So I'm schlepping my bags to the bus stop, and if there's anything I hate more than people, it's to schlep. I settled my generous hindquarters on a bench until a bus finally came. It was full. By the time the next one showed up, I was quite cross and it was full, as well.

I hate having to stand in the aisle with my bags sliding around and my butt in the face of some poor unsuspecting person and because you need to hold on to something, arms get raised and armpits exposed and that is never a good thing.

Because of this activity, my blouse, which was made out of some kind of slippery material that is only marginally respected by buttons, burst open. And of course, instead of a white, tan, or neutral-colored bra, I was wearing the green one. With lace. And a hole near one nipple. Not too inconspicuous. And because I was hanging on for dear life with one hand and my bags with the other, I wasn't able to button back up - since the bus was so packed, I had been struggling since the last stop to get off and had no free hand. Fine, I figured, I'll just fix it when I get off the bus and nobody will see.

Unfortunately, the Pope had just died, or almost died, or was thinking about dying, that Sunday. Because of this, there were fourteen hundred people at the Catholic church which is right next to my stop. And it had just let out.

The bus pulled up right in the thick of the people, respectable ladies wearing pastel suits and hose with new hairdos, and their jaws dropped.

So yes, I exposed myself to an entire Catholic mass, and for once, it wasn't my fault.