It happened again today.
A breezy day.
It happened once before. About 5 years ago. On a street in New York City.
There I was, minding my own business, headed to the subway, a spring in my step, and I felt them begin to slide. Over my hips, down my legs, past my thighs.
I clenched my knees together and hobbled into a public building, making an awkward stride to the ladies' room. The moment I relaxed my legs, my panties were a puddle of satin on the floor.
It was during my lunch break today, as I made my way to the break room. I managed to squeeze my thighs together as soon as they began their descent, making for a much less awkward dash to the restroom.
There is all the difference in the world between losing your panties in front of a street full of strangers who will 1) likely not notice and 2) you'll never see again and losing your panties in front of your coworkers who will 1) definitely notice, 2) point it out loudly enough for the entire office to hear, and 3) never let you forget it.
So, I pulled them back up, and returned to the break room with my hands planted on my hips. I was not feeling stern; rather I was keeping my red and gold lace panties firmly in place.
After lunch, and an awkward hobble back to my desk where I deposited my utensils, I grabbed my purse and hobbled anew to the ladies' room where I allowed the bit of lace to float silently to the floor and, stepping out of them, picked them up and placed them in my purse for later disposal.
It's a shame, really, that these panties are suddenly too big. I really like the red and gold lace.
And it made for a breezy day at work.