Parking Spot Guy
I showed my bare ass to an old man today. It was a total accident and it's partly because of Parking Spot Guy.
This is a random stranger that I've seen twice now. He was wearing a plaid shirt with a blazer both times I saw him and he has fantastic brown hair.
He is "Parking Spot Guy" because we briefly went after the same parking space at FedEx Office and had awkward "you go ahead", "no you", "okay, wait stop, I thought you said me", "oops, sorry you go" hand gestures from our respective vehicles.
Then he was super nice and friendly and apologized about the awkwardness when we were walking in to FedEx Office, and tried make general conversation. I was super embarrassed by my lack-of-caring what I looked like that morning (think yoga pants, unwashed hair in a ponytail, no make up), that I mostly just kept my eyes down and only gave him one word answers.
That was the day I decided that I would change into my gym clothes at the gym, then change back into my nice clothes when I leave. I will do my hair every morning. No more wearing yoga pants to Target. Mama don't roll that way anymore.
Confidence comes from within, and when you feel like you're lookin' good, then it shows, because you never know when you're gonna meet a cute boy and his package at FedEx Office.
He was mailing a package.
However, because I put effort into my outfit today instead of wearing running shorts to H&R Block, as I left the building waving to the nice old man who helped me with my tax question, a gust of wind came out of nowhere and blew my dress up revealing my panty-less ass in all of its glory.
Yep, sometimes I go commando. I'm a free spirit, motherfucker.
You know what wouldn't have abandoned its duty to cover my lady bits at the slightest whisper of wind? A pair of running shorts. But no, I will not turn back. Maybe the real lesson is that you should work out really hard for a nice ass so that when the wind blows your dress up, at least everyone has a nice view.