I received this email from my amazing friend, frequent commenter, and FBI agent (yes, really) "Echidna Girl," and it was too good not to share:
Ever have one of those days where you’re walking along at 4:30am and it’s 24 degrees and you’re freezing and you suddenly realize that it probably wasn’t a really good idea to eke one last use out of that old pair of black tights because the elastic is gone baby gone? You’re racing along as your toes are irreversibly dying from frostbite when suddenly you get that strange feeling that your tights are beginning to slip and it’s oh shiiiiiiit. You can’t get to them because they’re under 6 layers of clothing and you dread taking off your gloves and you’re still 10 minutes from the FBI Headquarters.
You start doing the funky hip swivel walk…but it isn’t working and now they’re down around your hips and things are getting desperate so off come the gloves and you have to reach in through your overcoat and grab whatever you can. All dignity is gone. Homeless people are no longer asking you for change as they recognize you as one of their own. You’re shuffling along at the lightning speed of a millipede because still…IT’S F%!KING FREEZING…but you can only propel yourself from the knees down.
Now you’re approaching the FBI building it suddenly occurs to you that you are exuding a sense of desperate determination born from utter humiliation, and with one hand shoved awkwardly in your coat, you’re rapidly hurling yourself at a major United States Government target. Just maybe you might want to reconsider your options before you reach the armed guards at the gate...
And that, my friends, is why you don't wear old tights.