My miniskirts, that is. I was just at the B&N up the road, surfing after meeting with a friend and otherwise relaxing, when a girl half my age sat down across the dias from me, in a tight miniskirt, and not knowing, or caring, how to sit in it, so I could see London and France.
Ahem. That’s the sort of thing I expect to see at the nightclub, with the music pulsating around me and the lights low, not in the coffee shop in the middle of the brightly lit big chain bookstore.
So now I have to resist the urge to dump my tight ‘n’ short miniskirts. Because I know I at least know and care enough to try to sit so that one can’t get that sort of unobstructed view.
Although now I can say I have seen the example of ‘an excuse to show off your underwear’.