Assless Chaps

Now I’ve had embarrassing things happen to me while I’ve been living in New York – embarrassing shit happens all the time.  Like the time my boob popped out of my shirt when I ran for the bus.

But this, by far, is the worst for me!

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Assless Chaps

So I get stared at often. It comes with being tall. And so, I’ve become accustomed to people assessing me. Checking my feet to see if I’m wearing heels slash to guess how big my feet are. Stuff like that. So it was nothing out of the ordinary yesterday when a few people gave me odd looks.

I had to look after James* in the Upper East Side (yes, the same wig pulling baby James from Wigging Out) and I had to be there at 8am. Most times when I look after him, it’s at 6:50am, which means I have to leave my house at 5:50am, which means I have to wake up earlier than that. But yesterday, I didn’t have to be there until 8am, which means I had to leave at 7am, which is basically a lie in for me; so I didn’t prepare my outfit and bag the night before like I usually did.

After I had snoozed more than I meant to, I was a bit rushed in the morning, but after I did my usual morning routine, I got dressed and left. It wasn’t as cold outside as I thought it would be, so I was a little overdressed in Uggs, a longish Arsenal shirt and leggings. I had a headscarf on because I’ve learned my lesson around James and refuse to wear any type of wig around Grabby McGrabGrab. I left my cardigan in my bag and began my hour-long journey to the UES. Yes, I probably looked a little homeless, but I’m a rent payment away from being homeless so, the outfit worked.

The train ride was normal. I wasn’t bothered not once (usually, someone asks me to take my earphones out…so they can ask how tall I am) but nothing out of the ordinary happened, people stared and whispered, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. I even got to my destination fifteen minutes early!

It was surely going to be a good day.

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After playing with James on his play mat (we play house and I read to him and sing songs with him…I’m a good nanny); I placed him on the mat and sat on the single leather chair directly by it. I usually watch him play by himself from this seat. But when I sat down, the chair was incredibly cooler than usual.

I peeled myself off the seat, yes, I had to literally peel myself off the leather chair.

Why?

Because there was a hole at the butt of my leggings.

And not just any hole…

Like…

HOW DO THESE THINGS HAPPEN TO ME?

I simply don’t understand what I’ve done to the Universe for me to receive such embarrassing karma! I’ve been reading my bible, praying more – jeez, I’ve even been fasting.

Yet, NOT ONE OF THOSE LOOKING ARSE PEOPLE HAD THE DECENCY TO TELL ME THAT I HAD A HOLE IN MY LEGGINGS. Not even the bloody doorman, who I see at least three times a week, who I have conversations with…who tried to sell me a bloody mixtape like two weeks ago, had the decency to tell me my arsecrack was on display.

What’s even bloody worse, is once I discovered the hole, I had a huge wedgie (small underwear, sue me) so the whole of New York has basically seen my whole bum and I’m probably a meme out there.

The entire time James took his nap, I was in front of the mirror trying to see if my longish shirt was long enough to cover the entire hole.

It wasn’t. The shirt just about covered the top of the hole. And the top of the hole is the only bit that showed that I was actually wearing any panties as my oatmeal butt devoured the rest of my underwear.

I’m actually still mortified, even as I write this.

Then later that day, as I told my little brother about my whole ordeal, I noticed a huge gaping hole in my Uggs. I probably looked like I stole that damn baby as I walked around with holes all over my apparel, big ol' head scarf on and a mosquito bite under my eye.

My life, ladies and gentlemen, is a joke.

I don’t even know why I tried to edit that picture so you can’t see my butt. The whole of flippin’ New York has already seen it.

I think I’ve lost my mind; I’m just trying to find it.