Saturday, July 03, 2010

Wardrobe Malfunction of the Worst Kind

This is a reprint from the Caribbean weather blog, I wrote for over 10 years, I still contribute but local correspondents have stepped in to help out, since I left the Caribbean to go on a walk about.  

Walk about is a term I learned from my Aussie friends. "A temporary return to traditional Aboriginal life, taken especially between periods of work or residence in modern society and usually involving a period of travel through the bush."

I don't know if our local correspondents got washed away in the recent rains and flash flooding or if they are just busy. One does tend to get busy with Caribbean emergencies. Things like discovering the rum cabinet is bare, could be cause for a fast dash to the store to replenish.

There is also the bikini emergency. Elastic in the Caribbean has a much shorter life span. Sometimes you get out your bikini to put it on, you stretch open the bottoms in anticipation of stepping into them and sliding them up, but the elastic stays open and your bikini falls down around your ankles. This can cause an emergency run to the store to find a new suitable bikini.

This also happens to underwear. I was out and about with a sailor who was having underwear problems. He was just a friend who had begged a ride to town in my heap of a jeep. The elastic in his undies had gave out and he was still trying to wear the bikini undies. But the faded red bikini type unides kept sliding down and hanging out from underneath his boat shorts. This of course looked unsightly. It also made it hard from him to walk. Especially since he kept digging around in his shorts to pull them back up every 20 seconds.

All while we are walking down the main road in Road Town, after parking. Now he is digging around inside his shorts with both hands, dealing with his dead elastic bikini undies. I kept trying to walk ahead like I didn't know him. People were staring and giggling and poking fingers. Those tied up in traffic were staring in surprise at this strange sight.

I found my pocket knife, and passed it to him, suggesting he cut the offending undies off. I was also pushing him towards an alley to do this in. But noooooooo, he stops right on the sidewalk, on the main road, and this was right around lunch time too, so traffic was plenty heavy. He pulls his undies up above his waste, um up above the waist, above his shorts,  while screaming "Oh my gosh, I have a WEDGIE now!" and then began trying to slice each side of his red bikini undies with the knife.

I thought he was going to cause a major car wreck as drivers dropped their jaws and stared in shocked awe at this new entertainment.

I hissed at him "I am NEVER going anywhere with you ever again!" I ran for an alley and looked for a place to hide.

Finally he gets his undies sliced on both sides, but now thanks to the wedgie, he can't seem to get the undies to come out from under his shorts.  So he starts reaching up from the hemmed line of his shorts, and fishing around to undo his wedgie and pull the offending undies out again.

Traffic is now at a standstill as drivers are more interested in watching this old salt mess around with his undies on the sidewalk, rather than driving to their destination.

Have you ever been in Road Town and wandered WHY traffic is backed up so badly?

I had ducked into an alley where I began laughing uncontrollably. I wish I'd had a video camera of my rum infused sailor friend doing all these antics on the sidewalk. Which on  a side note, his wife had flown back to England six weeks prior and NOW I knew WHY. She didn't want to be seen with him either.

Finally he announces, he has freed his underwear, and he holds them at arm's length in his hand, and says "Now what?"

"Stuff them in your pocket!" I hiss at him, as I crouch behind an air-conditioning unit in the alley, trying to distance myself from him. "When we find a garbage can, you can toss them in!"

"You want me to carry around used underwear in my POCKET?"

By now I was frantically trying to dig a hole behind the air-conditioning unit to crawl right into. Ever noticed how when someone has had too much rum, they tend to get LOUDER and LOUDER as if everyone around them has suddenly gone deaf?

"It's your used underwear!  Just stuff them in your pocket while we look for a garbage can!"

He is now studying his underwear, held aloft in his hand, "You know, if I wash these, then I have a nice soft rag for cleaning my boat with."

People in traffic are staring, laughing and poking their finger in his direction. Some just have their mouth wide open, like they don't believe what they are seeing; a sailor on Main Street, holding his faded red undies aloft, after cutting them off, and studying them for the potential use as a boat rag.

I roll my eyes and tell him "I am never ever going anywhere, ever with you again!"

He answers with "I feel so FUNNY walking around without underwear on. Lots of wind passing through these shorts, I hope I'm not hanging out!"

Now he is bent over, on Main Street, studying his crotch to see if his private parts are hanging out anywhere.  I can hear loud laughter from one of the cars.

I assure him "Nothing is hanging out, now let's GO!" and I rapidly retreat down to the other end of the alley.

I no longer care that he has ridden with me to town in my heap of a jeep. I am going to find my jeep and leave him standing on the sidewalk, bent over, peering under his shorts to see where his private parts are or are not dangling.

I run for the nearest bar and order a drink and a sandwich. Unfortunately, my friend finds me. I order the sandwich wrapped for take-away. He is still discussing his underwear dilemma.  People in the bar are getting quiet so they can  listen to him.

I grab my sandwich and head for my heap of a jeep. He notices and starts following me asking if we are going to the marine store and the grocery store. I tell him I am going home to my boat and hiding from him.

"Obviously, you've never had underwear problems!" he tells me, as if I have offended him.

"Yes, I've had problems with my underwear and elastic, but I didn't stand on Main Street during lunch time and make a public spectacle of myself either!"

He thinks I am being awfully fussy over nothing. He carefully folds his undies and drapes them over the grab handle above my glove compartment in the jeep. I glare at him and he says "What?  What now?"

I guess looking back now, the whole event was pretty hilarious.

My apologies to those of you that were stuck in the back of traffic that day, wondering why.

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