Articles

Have you ever seen someone showing more than expected while wearing a skirt?

Yes, a number of times because of wind in San Francisco, and one relatively memorable time because of drunkenness. There was a girl at a college party I had at my apartment for the purpose of letting my band play in front of an audience. We wore 50s prom dresses that had been bought at a thrift store for the gig, and being a band of three men and a female singer, it looked as punk as we could muster for the time. Many people came, including a bunch I did not know, but that was fine. So after we had played, I saw a girl in my backyard who was very drunk, and who was wearing a miniskirt and who had covered her shoulders with a tarp because it was cold and damp outside. she was sitting with her legs splayed, and was mumbling stuff as her head weaved back and forth. Her lacy underwear was in full view. She was very attractive, but hugely wasted.

There were about four other people in the yard, and I was about to go collect her and bring her inside when someone pulled to door off my refrigerator trying to open it and see if I had beer. This was not as superhuman as it sounds, because I had only about half as many screws in the hinges as necessary, and those were ones I had found in the garage to replace ones that had stripped out sometime earlier. I said, can someone bring her inside to the folks in the yard, and went in to deal with the fridge. Sometime much later, as I was trying to get everyone out so I could sleep, I realized they had put her in my bedroom on her stomach with her head slightly off the side of the bed, (I immediately thought of John Bonham and thanked whoever they were silently for doing that) and covered her with a throw blanket. She had no purse with her at that point, and I was not sure what to do next because I was also tired and somewhat drunk, so I shut the door and went back to kick everyone else out. I slept on my couch that night, and I remember wondering if I should go in there and see if she was awake.

In the morning, I went in to get my shoes because the ones I had fallen asleep in were still soaked from the night before, and she was sitting up in bed and rubbing her head. Her dress top was a bit askew, so I also saw a most of her breasts. I had found her purse on the way from the living room to the bedroom, and I said hi and handed it to her. She said thanks, but not much more. I asked her if she wanted some water, and she said no, she was fine. I ended up telling her my name was Tony and she said her name was Jennifer and nothing else. After a bit of silence, I said that I was going to drive over to State for class (it was a Thursday,) and I could drop her somewhere. She said that would be great, and I said ok, about five minutes or so.

I made some instant coffee and drank it, went to the bathroom, and then grabbed my keys and backpack. Back in those days, I was rarely that presentable in general, so nobody would have been surprised at me showing up late for class looking like I had just rolled out of bed from a very late night. Apparently, she was not bothered either, because she had not stirred since I walked in the last time, and I asked her if she was ready to go, and she said sure. We drove to school, and she told me which dorm she lived in and otherwise the car was silent except for the radio, which I turned down quite a bit because loud was too much for that morning. I stopped at her dorm, she got out and turned back and said she was sorry for throwing up in my shower, which I guess I had not noticed when I peed that morning (it was a college apartment and would have smelled funky anyway,) so I said no problem. Then she said thanks for the ride, and I have a boyfriend, apropos of nothing and went in to the dorms.

I went to class, and then came home, and got the apartment reasonably clean. She had not been kidding about the shower, and her sandals were in there as well. The were not spoiled in any way, and I eventually put them in my trunk in case I ever saw her around campus, figuring that I would give them back. I did see her around about a year later, but I did not have them with me. She said thanks when I told her that I could get them for her sometime the next week because I did not have my car with me that day. She said great, and then gave me her number, which turned out to be fake.

Eventually, I threw the shoes away when I was selling the car a few years later because the engine had thrown a rod.

© Voyager Vault·Home·Privacy·Not Found