wardrobe malfunction...

man, this internship of mine is chock FULL of humbling experiences!

this afternoon i was to go with my boss to observe preliminary hearings at city court (because my boss wants me to start doing them -- hooray!). we're getting ready to leave, and i figure i ought to stop in the loo. so i do. and while i'm going about my business, the zipper on my skirt breaks. BREAKS! like, not just sorta breaks, but the freaking zipper came out of its track and totally separated. so there i am, sitting in a not-so-well lit bathroom stall, frantically trying to make the zipper functional again. i'm trying everything -- using my teeth, my fingernails, anything on hand that could possibly serve as some sort of tool. the minutes are ticking away and nothing is working. and i'm getting more and more anxious and my heart is racing because all i can imagine is me traipsing back into the office in my slip trying to explain that, no, i can't go observe the prelims because my clothes are broken and i must go home. freaking out! and i'm also thinking that my boss must be wondering where the hell i am and if perhaps i'm seizing in the ladies room or something. and then, in some strange stroke of good luck, i managed to get the zipper back together! finally -- i had functional clothing! i headed back to meet up with my boss and of course he says, "um, are you okay?" and i'm laughing and my face is totally red and i just told him, "i'll tell you when we get outside." and so when i had explained why i had just spent 15 minutes in the bathroom, i said to him, "look -- i'm smart, i'm capable, i can do a good job; i just happen to be particularly accident-prone."

(i wonder, if that zipper had stayed broken, if i would have had to ride the bus home half-naked... if so, i'm sure, in what is the never-ending punchline of my life, i would have gotten arrested for indecent exposure and would have then had to retain a public defender to represent me... sigh...)

as a side note, and evidence in support of the theory that there's some higher power out there with a sick sense of humor, i sat in on a sexual assault trial this morning. the names of the streets where the victim and defendant lived? romeo street and juliet street. wow.