An equation for embarassment

An 8-block each way walk to the grocery store
+ nylons with apparently no elastic whatsoever
+ rather short skirt
- car , public washroom or empty parking lot
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hide out in a back alley trying to get your tights up so at least they'll stay above your knees most of the way home, since you think it would be rather...odd...to just stand there and whip them off, being EastVan and all. Not that hiking them up looks much better, nor the knee-level gusset that you have by the time you *finally* reach home. Now I remember why I prefer to go bare-legged.

Sigh.

I just hope mom enjoys the tarter sauce.