Bare-ly

By the time you reach the stairs you're already regretting the high heels you'd impulsively selected because they went nicely with your little pink skirt.

Wincing with every step you feel sharp twinges with every downward step until you finally reach street level and once again hobble down the street, your bowlegged walk making it clear what you were doing last night.

Just as you're approaching the corner you see that the bus has just arrived at the stop, held in place only by a red traffic light. Throwing comfort to the wind you move as fast as you can, gritting your teeth.

"Wait!" you yell out, seeing the light changing.

Only the stunning sight revealed by your skirt puffing up above your waist makes the bus driver hesitate long enough for you to make it, and you laboriously climb up the steps, fishing in your little purse for your wallet.

"Thanks," you say, flashing him your bus pass, unaware that you'd just flashed him more.

"No, thank you," he replies with a grin, puzzling you a little before you trudge wearily toward the back of the bus, wanting desperately to sit, but at the same time afraid of putting your sensitive derriere on the hard seats.