HEY YALL- IT'S MARDI GRAS!!!!
Which means that I have been and will be beadwhoring it up for the best plastic POS that anyone is throwing off of a float. I will also be dancing to all of the bass drums and cheering for all of the fly girls with the bands. I LOVE THIS CITY.
And in the middle of my parade merriment last week, I was so overcome with that love that I decided just to take my shirt off.... or so I thought. And my reaction was priceless.
It was a nice night, one that required some light layering. And, after beadwhoring and bassdrumdancing, I had worked up a sweat, so decided to take my top layer off. I was talking to my friend in the process and totally unconcerned with what I was actually doing-- that is, until I felt air on skin that should not be exposed to said air.
I grabbed my shoulders and glanced down to realize that my short sleeve shirt had come off with my long sleeve shirt.
I immediately hit the deck.
My friend, mid sentence- stopped.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" she asked me.
I was in a schmiegel squat on the neutral ground feverishly trying to pull my shirts apart and yelling 'COVER ME! COVER ME! STAND THERE SO NOBODY CAN SEE ME!!'
"What is wrong with you!?"
"I PULLED MY SHIRT OFF ON ACCIDENT--- I AM NAKED ON ACCIDENT!!!"
She bust out laughing and as I told her to shut up, I realized that I still had a tank top on.....
I forgot that I had triple layered (for protection... you never know?) and that while I did not mean to take the short sleeve shirt off, I was not completely exposed for all of Mardi Gras to see.
But my reaction certainly told a different story.
And if viewed from an outsider, the story probably went "did yall see that crazy girl take her long sleeve shirt off and then freak out?"