A Story of Freedom

08-09-08: When I was getting out of the car yesterday, the strangest thing happened to me.
The back hook from the bra that was in my front pants pocket caught on the upholstery of the seat and was literally pinning me down.
What??!!
I know, I know, it flummoxed me too.
Here are some questions you may have; the answers to which may clarify the situation, but unfortunately may also render it less colorful.
What kind of pants was I wearing?
-Olive green cargo-like hiking pants with lots of pockets and flappies.
Why was there a bra in my pocket?
- I have been known to put some pretty strange things in my pockets if I have them available - pockets, not things. Once for Halloween we were underway; and in anticipation of being unable to wear a costume, my friend Carol and I bought rubber animal noses that we planned on discreetly donning to be as festive as one may be permitted to be while in uniform on a ship. Mine was a wolf's snout. So Halloween came to USS CARL VINSON and she and I put our animal noses on when transiting the
p-ways or whenever we thought we could get away with it. The elastic kind of pinched the side of my face, though, so it wasn't super comfortable however hilarious looking. In life, most women find they are forced to choose between comfort and beauty or sophistication or sexiness in their attire. In this case, I had an entirely different dilemma, which should not be minimized: Comfort vs. Comic Relief. In most situations, as in this one, comic relief won the day.
For the record, except on special occasions, I opt for comfort over sophistication, beauty or sexiness hands down. Hmmmm. I guess that says something about the role
of comic relief in my life. Honestly, though, it usually finds me first.
Anyway, when I went down to the plant to stand watch, I didn't dare wear my snout; however I couldn't well leave it in the office sticking out of my inbox or something because someone would be liable to mess with it. So (I am sure you can see where this is going), I stored it safely in the pocket of my coveralls.
During the course of my watch, my watchteam and I eventually came around to talking about Halloween and how it sucked to be underway for Halloween. This is how most
conversations on watch go: Sailors stand around and bitch about how much this or that sucks because we are either underway, on watch, or on duty. I think we all suffer from the same paranoia that life elsewhere is just passing us by. Sometimes we may be right. Anyway, so in this most recent bitch session about missing Halloween, I offered up that I had some semblance of a Halloween costume: a wolf's snout; and that I had even been so bold as to wear it around the p-ways!
"Nuh-uh!"
"Yeah-huh!"
"Prove it!" My watchteam challenged me. "Where is it now?" they eagerly queried.
"In my pocket." I matteroffactly stated.
"You have a snout in your pocket?"
Feeling more than a little embarrassed, I sheepishly replied, "Yes, I do."
So, yeah, things in my pocket. I had the bra in my pocket because earlier I had changed it out in favor of a sports bra for my workout. My workout was over, though, and so as not to get cold, I layered my olive hiking-cargo pants over my running shorts for the trip to the coast.
During the course of the car ride with me shifting about, the back strap must have worked its way free from the confines of my pocket to cling to the upholstery of the only outside world it knew. I can't blame it really, that bra hook leads a very limited existence, monogamously clutching to one and only one hook, plastered to my back, day in and day out until it is freed only to be folded up in a drawer
or, worse yet, cast upon the floor with little hope of change, variety or adventure.
Being in that pocket and discovering some upholstery to latch on to was arguably the most interesting thing to ever happen to it. Poor thing.
But how strange it was for me, the human and master of the bra, to be trapped in my seat by a mere bra strap hook.