A carnival beckons

In my flustered state I couldn't remember what I'd intended to do, but none of that really mattered since I realized that I wasn't where I'd intended to go anyway. Thankfully a big ferris wheel caught my eye, giving me a good idea of where I should go next. I could see a throng of people at the entrance, waiting for their chance to pay and get their hand stamped.

I'd left almost everything at home except for some money and my bus pass. Both fit unobtrusively in a tiny pocket hidden inside the skirt's hem. As I approached the crowded entrance of the carnival I patted it to re-assure myself that it was there. For a moment I froze when I could feel the hardness of the bus pass, and I patted around the hem of my skirt frantically, only to find that the skirt had rotated, putting the pocket at my front.

"Phew," I thought, patting it and slipping my hands in to re-assure myself that the pocket was there. Sure enough I felt the edges of its contents.

"Look, that girl's playing with herself," someone said, and I froze again, looking around. Instead of pulling out my fingers like I should have I tried to find the voice.

"Damn, must be like a Carnie groupie or something."

"Probably likes the strong man. That dude is huuuge. Bet he's got just as big a..."

"Miss?" someone said. "Miss!"

"What?" I looked around again, then realized I'd somehow made it to the entry booth. Taking a quick glance at the price board I pulled out my folded up money and counted it out. In my agitation I nearly missed the box.

"Miss?" the man called again as I tried to stuff my money into the box with trembling hands. "We don't take condoms."

"What?" I stared at him.

He pointed at my hand and what I realized was a couple of bills and a few condoms. Where had they come from?

"WE DON'T TAKE CONDOMS!" he practically yelled, his voice booming loud enough for everyone in line to hear.

"Oh my god, the girl's trying to hook up with the ticket seller!" someone laughed, and it felt like my face would burst from the surge of blood to it.

The ticket-seller tried to say something about stamps as I let go of the bills but I just rushed away, staring in horror at the condoms in my hand.

My first thought was to throw them away before anyone noticed, but reason prevailed. After all, you never know when a condom might come in handy, I reasoned. With that thought in mind I stuck my hand down the front of my skirt, intending to put them in the little hidden pocket where I keep some money. Except it wasn't there.

"Look. That girl's playing with herself!" someone yelled, and I tried to dash for cover. Unfortunately there wasn't really anywhere to hide, so I just fumbled around trying to figure out what happened to the pocket until I finally realized that my skirt had rotated sideways, and jammed the condoms into the pocket before giving the skirt a vigorous tug to get it back into position.