Now that I've scared you all to death or else made you salivate...Let me introduce you to one of my many, many prisoner pen pals:
As you can see, I am dressed as conservatively and as seemly as befits a visit to a prison. They have rather strict dress codes and codes of conduct, and it's always best to err on the side of caution or you can get turned away at the door.Not so at the county jail! My friend, Tracy was recently OTC* and housed at the Sacramento County Jail just up the street from me. *prison lingo for Out To Court* While registering there for my visit, I noticed that any and all street attire was allowed. Young wives and girlfriends were scantily, even provocatively clad.
The rare occurrence of my friend being transported to the city for a court appearance afforded me the opportunity to pop down and visit him without quite so much hoopla and preparation as when I go to the Prison.
The way it works is that you drag yourself out of bed and heave off to the jail by 7am so you can get in line for the first available appointment. The first time I visited, the appointment was set for 8:45PM and it was eerie and dark and solitary downtown that time of night. It did, however, have the upside of offering tons of free parking and no worries about feeding the meter or driving around for ages finding a spot. Which for some reason served to short circuit my common sense when it came to my next visit which was scheduled for 8:45 AM. As in: peak traffic time and serious parking mayhem.Excuse me for now talking about my undergarments. I know it's simply not done in polite company, but it's important to this story. For if I had not yielded to vanity and worn my 18 hour Playtex Granny Bra, none of this would have happened. Instead, I opted for my superior quality and superior comfort Victoria's Secret Under wire Push-Up Bra.
Just like this only with more fat.
I threw on Capri's, a tank top and a nice blue sweater. And I drove downtown and in a frantic muddle had to drive around for 20 minutes looking for parking. I ended up blocks and blocks from the jailhouse and with moments to spare, I had to race like the wind. Of course when you are 50 and 50lbs overweight that translates more into a lumbering sweaty jog of heaving and huffing and puffing to make it to the jail on time.
I whisked through the security portal, past the busy administration kiosk and up the elevator to the visitation area. I was buzzed into the glass booth and sat down, hair askew and dripping with perspiration.
Dear Tracy came into the dayroom and I saw with satisfaction that he broke into a big grin when he saw me. As he was seated and reaching for the phone I noticed that his eyes fell to my chest area and remained glued there for the duration of our greeting. Since he is normally a polite and gentleman like fellow, I thought this was a bit out of character. I let it go, though. After all, I am only a feminine human, and it's flattering to be thought still worth a glance!
Except that Tracy was doing more than glancing. His eyebrows were decidedly rococo and his normally pleasant smile had something of the salacious about it.
I decided to look down and see what all the fuss was about, and as you have already guessed, what I was staring at was a completely exposed, fully-flopped out left breast! Swinging in the breeze! Au naturel! Starkers!
You've never seen anyone move so fast in your life. I'm sure I was a blur of Super Woman Speed as I adjusted my clothing and covered my shameful nudity.
Tracy was at this point falling off his seat with laughter, and I was falling off mine with mortification. I cringe at the thought of what would have happened if one of the guards had seen this display! NO WAY would anyone believe this was an accident!
"But officer, I was nowhere near it when it happened! It jiggled out of it's own accord!"
And THIS, dear ladies, is why we must never run. Why we must not perspire or jog or jounce around. Unfortunate clothing mishaps can occur and the consequences could be dire. One could end up Nekkid as a Jailbird and serving time of one's own!