GRANNY UNDIES

Remaining readers, I'm going to tell you a little story about embarrassment.

Ready?

OK

I'm getting married and gosh I'm so damn excited about it I could bust. However, in an effort to be the sylphlike woman of my dreams I have been busting a gut at the gym to get some DEFINITION and guess what? is it working. This gym regime has put me a little behind in my dress preparations though, hence the following event...


I had booked a fitting with my lovely dressmaker Kendall at her place. Lovely Kendall works with me and at lunch time I received a panicked phone call.

"Ladycracker, I can't do your fitting tonight".
"Well that is ok, what about you come over to my office at 5 and we do it here? Office mate is away and General Manager isn't here either.. the coast is clear".

So the plan is set.

At 5.00pm precisely I was standing in my office in the largest pair of sucker - me - in granny undies and a rather charming BEIGE bullet shaped 50's bra. My in-an-emergency underwear that I'm using until my tres sexy corsetry arrives.
So, in the office, bullet shaped bra, granny undies, arms and legs akimbo and a rather attractive lady with her head around my crotch when in walks....

THE GENERAL MANAGER. WHAT IS HE DOING HERE? WHY DOESN'T HE KNOCK?

Good lord, what do these things always happen to me? So as you can imagine after many red faces, screams, ineffective bullet breast covering and a dressmaker rolling around on the floor laughing some sort of equilibrium was restored.

Although I still can't look my general manager in the eye.