A couple of years ago I flew to Buffalo for a visit with my peeps.
The flight was smooth and uneventful.... that is, until it came time to deplane.
I sat in business class (gotta love Airtran's 40 dollar upgrade), thus was situated at the front of the plane, and while the crew prepared the cabin for deplaning, a line of anxious passengers grew.
As we all waited, an older gentleman put forth the kind effort to collect my bag from the overhead compartment. (the story picks up here, I promise) When I reached above my head to grab the bag from the nice man... my pants plummeted.... all the way down to my ankles.
*I now have a clear understanding why mothers implore their children to wear good, clean undies "in case of an accident."*
So there I was... arms above head, pants at ankles, ratty pink undies in full view. What did I do? I took hold of my bag, thanked the man, bent down and pulled my pants up, grasped what little dignity I had left, turned toward the plane's door and continued on my journey.
I am guessing most people would be mortified if this happened to them. Not this chickie. In fact, I am certain I could be heard accross the country - cheering in elation all the way to baggage claim - because my pants were so big on me... they fell down!
Perhaps my question should now be "When will my pants fall down again?" I have to believe they will and don't worry mom - I'll start wearing my good undies.