OK, I'm walking across the Food Lion parking lot along with a zillion other people who are buying stuff for Thanksgiving dinner. I look down at my feet to admire my embroidered clogs and I see:
something white hanging from my shoe. I reach down, thinking I am going to get a slightly embarrassing piece of toilet paper. I grab it, and it isn't toilet paper. It is cloth. It is substantial. It is my underwear.
I take it from my pants leg and stare at it, in the middle of the Food Lion parking lot, surrounded by a gazillion shoppers. It won't fit in my pocket. This isn't a flimsy bikini number. This is a super-duper support panty, size...never mind. It goes in my pocket book, where it stays safely, until I pull out my wallet to pay...
Ok, back to the pumpkin cheesecake.