You probably clicked the link on that, hoping that I came up with something totally crazy to get people to read my blog. Well, you would be wrong. Something happened the other day that almost killed me from how embarrassing it was. Since you guys tend to ask about embarrassing stories and I haven't figured out how to cope with this yet, I figured I'd tell ya'll what happened.
When I went shopping for my work uniform, we found a couple of shirts that I would be allowed to wear but upon actually wearing them, I discovered my arm movement was too restricted. I'm claustrophobic so that made me crazy enough but it was also impossible to put a jacket on without making the sleeves bunch up at my elbows and rub them raw. So, I decided I needed to get a new shirt.
The only other shirt I found was kind of low cut, but it looked enough like what the other people wear that I didn't really care. After all, I could just wear a t-shirt under it if it were a problem. Since it gets really hot in there and it's not polite to sweat all over peoples' food, I put the shirt on and bent over. I asked Mom, "Can you see anything or is this work safe?" She told me that she didn't see anything.
I wore that shirt every day I worked (while washing it in the morning, since I hate ironing) and never thought it was a problem. I never gave it a second thought because it's pretty modest when I put it on. A lot of my jobs include bending down to pick up hot trays, or leaning over to either set a table or clean it or pass out food. That sort of thing but Mom had checked the shirt so of course nothing would cause a wardrobe malfunction.
I noticed that a lot of women had started glaring at me, but I just assumed they were some of the prissy bitches who have never worked a day in their life. We get a lot of people like that and you can tell just by their attitude, so I didn't think too much of it.
After a week of this, one of the servers pulled me aside after everything had slowed down. He's one of the people that actually comes up to me just to hang out and talk when there's nothing going on, so I thought that he was going to tell me something that happened at one of his tables, like he normally does.
"When you leaned over earlier, I saw down your shirt."
Have you ever had a moment when you hear something where your mind literally goes blank and then you're filled with this overwhelming embarrassment and horror? Well, that was me. Before I could even respond, the expo (the guy who puts the food on the trays for the servers/runners) called me over and told me that I needed to do something, which I sort of did in a daze because I was in shock. When I had finished, the server waved me over into the togo area where he was rolling silverware.
"Are you mad at me?"
I was confused by that. Honestly, I can't blame him if he saw down my shirt. I was the one who bent over. Accidents happen and I know that. "Um, no? Why?"
"Because your face got really red."
Well, no shit Sherlock. You would blush too if you were in my position. "That's because I'm embarrassed! If I flashed you, how many tables have I flashed? I lean over in front of guests all the time!"
"You've flashed me like three or four times today. I wasn't sure if I should tell you because I didn't want to embarrass you or make you think that I was trying to look or anything and I didn't want to just yell it. Don't be embarrassed though. I'm in my late 20's. Its not like I've never seen it before."
I kind of just ran away and tried to occupy myself with anything else, but we kept walking passed each other while we were doing sidework so that made it beyond awkward. Not only that, but I had to continue to lean over so I had to hold my shirt to my chest so I wouldn't flash anyone else. I did manage to thank him for telling me, since I would have never known otherwise.
After that, I left with Mr Fix-It and he asked me what was wrong, so I explained everything to him. He told me, "Oh, I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to make you think I was looking and you tell your mom and your mom and I would have a problem. You're a nice girl. You're a good girl. I don't want to cause problems."
Moral of the story: Mother fucker, if you can see my boobs or any part of me that shouldn't be seen, fucking tell me.
P.S. The server really was nice about it and today at work, he acted like nothing happened. I still can't look him in the eye though.
P.S. #2 Ashley and I are having a debate. If you had to be called with a "bitch" or a "hoe", which would you prefer? Don't vote here. I'm putting a poll up on the side of my blog that will stay up until January 10th. I won't say which of us said what so it won't be biased, but go vote in the poll!