I used to be in an awful habit of sometimes not wearing underwear; I had often thought,” I want my ‘boys’ to move and float freely”.

Even when purchasing a fine suit of clothing, and asked , by the tailor,”which side I wore it on”, I  would reply,”Like a flag in the wind!”

However, that fashionless quirk once caused a serious’ costume malfunction’ that backfired to almost jeopardize my career and my very life!

Once, in an English Literature Senior class, as a senior faculty member, teaching a class in Comparative World Religions, I discovered, after the class period bell had rung, that my pants had badly ripped on a nail from my chair..

I approached and peevishly asked another colleague, the sewing teacher, who had a sewing class next door to my classroom, if she could possibly repair it, while I waited?

She smiled and said that it would take only a moment, to fix it

She was a tiny, sweet old lady with her hair done up in a white bun, whose room was filled with the clatter of sewing machines, all closely attended by an all girl class population.

She had smiled and had instantly agreed and had told me to remove my pants, inside of the teacher’s bathroom, also around the corner from my classroom, and to surrender those pants to her pupil monitor, who would wait outside of the bathroom door; she would gladly retrieve them to me, repaired, “in a nonce”.

A full two minutes after I had done what she said, bells everywhere clanged loudly in rhythmic series of ‘threes’; as I stood there half naked, familiar clangs of the fire drill bell rang out, and in profound shock, I heard the muted sounds of all students lining up, en masse to exit the building!

The silence of the building, now emptied, chilled me to the marrow; I waited, semi naked and alone for seven long minutes!

I was left all alone, in an empty Senior High School, now suddenly half naked and forgotten, in a third floor faculty bathroom, during a fire drill; I was waiting, standing with no pants or underwear on!

After five minutes of utter silence, in a fretful agony, I finally heard the multitude sounds of 3200 shuffling pairs of shoes, returning.

More time passed, but there was no knock on the door, no repaired pants; I couldn’t make my way back around the corner of the hallway, to the sewing room, to investigate, as I was without underwear briefs!

First, a cold chill and then a warmth flush, both of horror, alternately suffused through me.

I poked my head out of the bathroom door, and as a talking head, managed to call out to a random passing pupil, asked if he would assist me; would he go to the sewing room, just around the corner from the bathroom to call the sewing room teacher to quickly return to my rescue?!

After barely a minute, the unknown Good Samaritan pupil returned to me.

He said that the room was dark and empty; that the program on the door announced that the sewing room’s teacher was at a scheduled break, for lunch!

I only imagined what would happen to me, if she had left for the day!

I plaintively begged this unknown pupil not to continue on to his approaching class, that I would give him a note to excuse his lateness as service to me; would he please, in God’s name, run down three floors to the teacher’s cafeteria, in the basement, to find and relay my panic stricken message to the sewing teacher?

I began slowly to quietly mentally curse that little sweet old lady.

Visceral waves of roiling hatred, blossomed in her direction, to trip her on a stairs, to fell and smite her.

Her cruelly broken promise had left me naked, exposed in a vengeful world eager to crush me.

Perhaps, focused, I unloosed demons, towards her as I had little shame.

I perceived my sudden anger as more empowering, less disabling, than anxiety, grief and horror. 

Staff, later told me, that although she was very good natured, she was notoriously a very forgetful staff member!

I must have surely died a thousand deaths!

I waited and prayed, prayed, cursed and waited.

My life swam before my eyes.

What would I do if she had gone home, for lunch or gone home
 for the day!?

What if there had been a REAL fire?!

After many more minutes, suddenly, there she was , knocking at the teacher’s bathroom door, embarrassed but holding my returned and repaired pants up to me; she apologized profusely for having forgotten all about me!

I never ever left my house for any reason whatsoever, without underwear, from that time on.

 ”Don’t get caught with your pants down”, I now thought, meant to bring along another extra pair of pants, for work.

 My life experiences, teaching, were a series of indignities, seasoned with embarrassments , humorous, only in retrospect.

The road to Hell, paved and over-paved with only good intentions, from a sewing teacher, instantly loomed to threaten my welfare, safety, livelihood, and to reign over all of my future moments .

Only in retrospect,  years later, did I manage to calm down enough to try to impose laughter at my chilling predicament mess, the almost certain near ending of my long career in teaching;

I would have easily and surely made the newspapers and the six o’clock news and been the toast, well burnt, of the Internet..

.

“I was arrested once in Germany for public nudity. I thought it was a topless beach – it was. . . . .a shipyard”

Madonna