We’re not talking figuratively, here. If I talked about how many times I’ve figuratively showed my ass, this would be a never ending dialogue and y’all would get bored.
These are the times I’ve literally showed my ass.
I’m willing to talk about many things. I’m not afraid to show my flaws. I embrace my motherfucking flaws. HAHAHFUCKINGHAHA. Maybe not. But I’m trying.
I’m kind of a prude. I come from a long line of prudes. We don’t show an abundance of skin and we don’t talk about sex. We certainly do not show our asses.
On purpose.
Since I am me, however, I have shown my ass a few times on accident.
At my old job, I showed my ass to the same guy twice. I was the director at IT at the time and Butch worked for me as the operations manager. Since we were management, we had the privilege of parking along the fence next to our building instead of the parking lot. We both got to work at the same time one morning and I was wearing a sundress. A gust of wind came by at the most inopportune time and it lifted my dress to above my waist line.
Butch: Nice pink panties.
Me: Never speak of this again.
Then a few months later, I wore a skirt with two layers and somehow managed to tuck the inside layer into my panties. Butch is the one who alerted me to my wardrobe malfunction.
Butch: Why do you keep showing me your panties?
Me: I have no idea. Never speak of this again.
He teased me about it for years. This is the same guy who I was talking to on the phone while reading an email from Randy. I wasn’t really paying attention and just wanted to get off the phone and I accidentally told him I loved him. I never heard the end of that one, either.
Then there was the incident at my current job.
First of all, I never wear thongs. I own a few, but I don’t wear them because I am not a fan of the sensation one gets while wearing butt floss. However, there are days when the laundry fairies are lazy assholes and my only choice is commando or thong.
I was betrayed by my favorite jeans. I loved these jeans. They gripped my bubble butt in the most flattering way, they didn’t cut in anywhere, they were faded to the perfect shade of blue. They were the perfect jeans.
Back then, I was still going out to lunch with my coworkers. I rarely went out to lunch with my group in the IT department, but I often went with the tech support guys. I even remember where we ate that day. It was Bob Evans. I am not a fan of Bob Evans, but the dynamic of the group dictated that everyone got to take a turn deciding. I like it so much better when I just always get my way.
In all times I’ve told this story, I’ve never mentioned this part, but I knew there was a problem when I got out of my coworker’s pick up truck. I felt a breeze. Just the faintest of breeze. It was so faint that my brain decided that where my mind was going was too horrifying and we would just go ahead and pretend we felt nothing.
Then I got back to my desk. My office chair is a pretty nice chair. It’s got a high back and arms and is covered in this kind of nubbly material. I realized that as I sat there, I could feel way too much of the chair.
Internal dialogue:
No. No my pants did not split. On the only fucking day I’ve worn a thong in a year.
Fuck. Not these jeans. I love these jeans.
Besides, my pants didn’t split.
Goddammit. My pants are split.
Okay, just pull your shirt down as far as you can and get to the bathroom.
Y’all, I expected there to be a little tear. I was beyond lying to myself, I was prepared to accept that I had a tear. A small one. What I found was, the left side of my jeans fucking split from the waist down to the thigh. My actual ass was touching the nubbly material on my chair. My actual ass is what felt the breeze when I got out of my coworker’s truck.
I startled the shit out of a girl in the bathroom. I thought I was alone and hadn’t heard anyone come in. When I took my jeans off and discovered how huge the rip actually was, I screamed ‘fuck’ and a couple other things that I don’t remember. It turned out okay because I was able to send her on a quest to find a sewing kit. I barely know this girl yet given the situation was comfortable enough to tell her to not come back without a sewing kit. I didn’t care if she had to go buy one, just get me the goddamn kit.
I don’t really sew ever, so after spending 15 minutes trying to thread a needle, I was able to sew up my traitor jeans in a jagged gash up my left ass cheek.
Still better than showing actual ass.
I’m positive none of the tech guys noticed. If they had noticed they would have made me so miserable I would have quit this job a few years ago.
You know, maybe it would have been better if they had seen my ass.
It has been a few years since the last time I showed my ass. I fully expect it to happen again. As I said earlier, because I am me.
Better ass than boob. I had that one at work and wish I had come up with ‘never speak of this again’. At least with the ass, they can be checking it out from the rear and you can be blissfully unaware…
I only had one boob incident my entire life. I was 16 years old and meeting my boyfriend’s aunt and uncle for the first time and my tube top had rolled down on one side. Don’t judge..it was the 70s. Everyone wore tube tops then.
I work with men, entirely. Not a woman to be found in the maintenence dept, at the pro shop and unfortunately no women golfers on the day of the incidient.
On a particularly HOT and steamy day I was doing some kind of work that made me break out in a full-on sweat, I also happened to be wearing a fairly new florescent pink sports bra(washed a time or two specifically for this reason). Our work shirts are blue, so seeing through them is generally not a problem, unless you sweat so much that the dye from your sports bra leaves a very obvious impression on your shirt. I did not notice this until I got home and was preparing to get in the shower. I’m not sure if I’m flattered that I work with gentlemen who didn’t want to embarrass me by telling me, or assholes who wanted everyone else to notice as well. Either way; “THANKS GUYS”
Oh hell…assholes!
Yep, as I mentioned previously, my skirt malfunctioned on the first day of a new job and hit the deck just as I was being introduced to the entirely male staff in the office.
How I made it through the day I’ll never know.
However that pales into total insignificance when compared with not only having a boob escape during a ridiculous dance routine we were doing while performing a cover of Kids In America on a showcase gig, but having it compounded by the fact that it was being videoed!!! To make matters much worse the guy taking the video asked me afterwards if he could do one of me on my own.
I could have died on the spot, I also keep a watchful eye on Youtube just in case the video is ever unearthed and made public all these years later.
Oh hell…yeah..at least I have never had my incidents recorded. As far as I know.
The closest I have was ripping my pants while setting up for a fancy catering party (they kept me in the back room pouring drinks so the guests couldn’t see).
Pretty tame, I think.
And you were probably not wearing a thong..
My uniform pants split open as I was getting on the bus to work one morning, of course I wasn’t wearing underwear. I felt them tear, but didn’t know how bad, until I swung my ass into a seat about halfway down the aisle and heard a guy in the very back say “Did I just see what I think I saw?” Mortified, I lengthened the strap on my sling-bag to make it hang low enough for cover during the walk from San Pablo Ave. to the warehouse. Since I was already late, no-one was there except my friend Jay the warehouse manager, and Vincent, my helper. Not wanting to make us even later than we were, I tied my black leather jacket around my waist like a skirt, and set to loading our delivery truck. I could stop by my house for pants on our way to the first delivery. Jay was teasing me about it a little, but didn’t know how bad the situation was… Until I was leaned over carrying a mattress on my back and it knocked my jacket loose, which I then tripped over and came crashing down to the warehouse floor with the mattress on top of me, my now fully exposed ass sticking out from its lower edge. Vincent helped me up, and handed me my jacket, while Jay was laughing so hard I was afraid he would either pass out or pee himself. I was hoping for both.
Oh…that is just horrifying. It makes me feel a little better.
When I was nine and already developing, I was wearing a bikini to a pool party. All of us were putting ice cubes down each others’ bathing suits. My top came off and everyone saw. I was traumatized, lol.
Oh, I can see that…that would be traumatic
Wow. I’ve not really had any true wardrobe malfunctions; unless you count the one time my insulin pump tubing was hanging out of the right leg of my skort when I exited the only bathroom at the limo place I worked in. One of our drivers pointed it out to me.
There was also one time when the sleeveless top I was wearing was apparently too risqué for the office in the catholic hospital I worked in. My boss at the time took the liberty of telling me never to wear anything like that again. That was fun. :/
I used to work in a catholic hospital. I hated that job, too.
I was REALLY glad my glasses were off when I ran into one of the staff from the Independent Living Skills Program I went to as she came out if the showers at the YWCA while I was heading into the showers. So, while I did not see her in any particular detail, she saw me, which was much worse overall… BUT, I never hated my body as much as I did at that moment!
That would be horrifying. I can’t shower in the public. I just can’t do it.
That was definitely a laugh out loud read! Thank you! I have had my fair share of wardrobe malfunctions (at work and church no doubt). And I did have a favorite pair of jeans turn traitor on me while at work but thankfully it was at the end of the day and a coworker let me borrow an extra shirt he had and I was able to wrap it around my waist. But no topping your story! 🙂
Thank you! I’m glad your friend was there with extra clothes!
I once did the same damn thing, and it was by no means a small tear, right up the middle of my ass. Of course it happened first thing in the morning and I was not about to go the whole day sporting this new look.
Then I left to go home and change and decided I didn’t want to go back, so I didn’t.
Turned out to be a nice day.
Maybe I should use that as an excuse tomorrow because I do not want to go to work.
Nice pink panties.. oh my, that is the one thing I fear.. wind under a dress.. but the torn pants on thong day.. certainly a close second.
I don’t wear skirts at all anymore. I have some sundresses I will wear around the house, but that’s it.
You need to ask Chris Dean of pixie c.d. about her upskirt story. I don’t want to ruin it for you. 😉
Okay..I will!
Life would be better if I got my way. And you got your way. People just need to get it right! As for being accidentally nekkid at inoportune moments, I managed to twist out of my wraparound bathing suit while being filmed for tv. Pretty sure ratings went up. They better had!
Oh man…at least there were no cameras involved with mine!
OH THAT FINAL SENTENCE.
YES.
HERE.
I’m finding that it doesn’t suck as much as it used to..me being me. Or at all..at least mostly.
Oh my God. The horror! I think I would have to quit after the Bob Evans lunch incident. Good for you for using the resources available to you (poor woman in bathroom) efficiently and effectively.
I really don’t think anyone saw because these people aren’t known for being subtle here…
Oh my – I had a yoga top malfunction in the hall of the school where I teach once – thank god no kids were around. And I did show my ass, well actually all of me, at a faculty retreat when I went into the hot-tub sans clothing and because of the f#$king migraine I had at the time I didn’t care who was there to see me in my altogether. It was very liberating!
Well…doing it on purpose isn’t quite the same. I would have to have a huge headache..although, really, being less uptight would probably be good for me.
I have never had an ass or boob baring incident. But one day, quite by chance, I discovered (or rather my co-workers discovered) that my skirt was completely sheer in the sunlight. Fortunately, I was about 22 at the time and could handle the sheerness. Not today.
BTW, I laughed WAY out loud at “I like it so much better when I just always get my way.” (Me too.)
Yeah, I could have rocked the sheer at 22 as well…maybe even 32…at nearly 52? no…no I cannot
We are kindred spirits, but at least I never had my ass out at work. This was absolutely hysterical.
I broke out in flop sweat in the bathroom…I was horrified. I can’t wear thongs at all anymore because I’m positive my clothes will dissolve if I do
Oh, my! I may have to speak of this again.
Lol!
Hahah..Yeah, I never lived it down. That was the same job where I accidentally cupped someones ‘package’ I was walking by and put my arm out as a way to distance myself (narrow hallway) and cupped him. Holy shit.
I may have flashed some boob when I changed my shirt in math class in 7th grade. But then again, I really didn’t have boobs then…so no worries.
Hahahah…I didn’t either. But I don’t think I flashed them. It was a long time ago..and my memory is hazy, so I guess I might have.