Dancing in Another Man's Pants

A Writer’s Journey

I used to tell funny stories on my blog all the time, until I eventually didn’t have any more to tell. Just now I remembered this little gem from high school.
I took dance classes in high school, which I loved, though I showed up about as rarely as I did for any of my other classes. Skipping was a terrible habit for me. 
One day when I was dressing for class in the locker room, I realized I forgot my dance clothes. How typical! I finally showed up for class and I would have to sit and watch people dance without getting any credit. This was especially frustrating since I was only there in the first place because I couldn’t get away with missing again.
I sat next to a mirror in the studio, still wearing a sweater and jeans, and sulked.
Class was just about to start when I realized I was sitting next to the Lost and Found box. It was overflowing with shoes, bras, shirts, and pants.
I had an idea.
Quickly, I grabbed the first shirt of pair of sweats I thought would fit and ran to get dressed. I had to hurry, or I would be late and only get half credit. I stuffed my street clothes into a locker, ran to the door, and on my way glanced in a mirror. I noticed just in time that my t-shirt said “Hooters” in big, sparkly letters.
This would be embarrassing for anyone, but it was especially problematic for me. I had vocally boycotted Hooters and condemned anyone who went there. In fact, I had just published a very opinionated article about it in the school newspaper. (I don’t care if all the waitresses are dressed as nuns; I’m not going into a restaurant with a vulgar name.)  On Senior Skip Day, all my friends went to Hooters and I refused to go with them, saying I would rather stay in school.
I still can’t believe one of the few times I went to school was Senior Skip Day.
I wasn’t going to be caught dead wearing that shirt, but I didn’t have time to get another. At last I decided to wear it wrong side out so no one could see the words in the front. 
By the time I made it to the dance floor, the teacher was still taking role and I got credit for showing up on time.
The pants I was wearing were very comfortable and I had just about decided to keep them if they weren’t claimed in the next few days. 
Halfway through class, the students were lined up in a corner to take turns leaping across the room. I noticed one of the boys was looking me up and down. It started to make me uncomfortable.
To get him to stop, I smiled and say, “Hey, how’re you doing?”
He continued to stare. Then, flabbergasted, he said, “Are you wearing my pants?”
“Um… yes. Sorry.” 
It was my turn to go, so I leaped across the room and waited on the other side for my very confused classmate to join me so I could explain to him what happened.
I thought he would laugh about it, but even though I promised to give them back, he was clearly perturbed that I had danced in his pants. I don’t know why he was so upset. After all, finders keepers.

On A Writers Journey, aspiring novelist Teralyn Rose Pilgrim talks about the excitements and disappointments that go along with her budding career. Currently agents are looking at her historical fiction about Rome’s Vestal Virgins.
teralynpilgrimm.blogspot.com