wardrobe malfunctions- part 1 ~OR~ what the fuck are YOU looking at?!?!

due to the sad and quasi-bitchy nature of my gratuitous posts of late, i decided to throw you a bone. (or perchance, a boner?)
and yes, beloved bitches, this is a true story.

ahem...

i was two summers ago, and i was running to catch the bus to get to work.
maybe i was fashionably late, maybe i was on my own inner clock time, maybe i was baked and lost track of time. maybe maybe maybe.
either way, who cares?
running to catch a bus sucks on a variety of levels.
1- running anywhere sucks.
2- the destination is a bus.
3- it's usually in inclement weather, and car-only people just don't fucking get it, or have much/any compassion for the whores of public transit- hence splashing muddy puddle water at walkers etc. oops, i'm veering.

okay, back to the facts. i was running. actually i was jogging/running. i was still a smoker at this juncture. running presented a respiratory challenge. i had 6 giant city blocks left to go- about 2/3 mile. some of that travel was up an incline too. the next bus came an hour later, and i was responsible to open shop @ work. not exactly a window for error. i had to run.
in the rain. at least it was late summer, and not a nasty new england miserable clammy cold rain.
i had on my lavender shiva* graphic t-shirt and a floopy vintage wacky-printed skirt. running in a skirt blows. worse than just running. the last time i ran in the rain wearing a skirt, i broke 3 bones in my foot. granted, i had on footwear that rivaled a practical prostitute of the 70's, but that's an entirely different story.
jees, i do get distracted telling stories, no? whatevs.
by the time i get to the bus stop...
stop.
i want to go mix up a refreshment, be right back.
here i am. fresh squeezed grapefruit juice with a splash of vitamin v.
okay, i get to the bus stop as the city bus pulls up to the stop. perfect- in time for work. i rule.
or so i thought.
i readily have a crumpled up dollar and a quarter in my hand for the fee, and notice the driver giving me the stink-eye. i put my loot into the vacu-cash thingy and grunt at the driver- "what?!?" muttering to myself as i take visual note of where i am going to sit down.
the bus wasn't very busy, seeing as it was early morning on a saturday, bus heading out of town- and not to a shopping destination. thank goodness. but there were these bitches gawking at and talking low to one another obviously, about me.
that.
was.
it.
"jesus fucking christ- WHAT?!?!? what the fucking fuck are you yalie bitches staring at?" i growled at these two petite asian ivy-league co-eds.
then i got to my seat.
and then i looked down.
and then- i noticed it- my right titty (i'm sure, due to my unfortunate bout of jogging,) made her way out of my bra. she was pressed nice and firmly against my thin cotton shirt. and it was a damp shirt at that.

you're welcome yalies.
you're welcome bus driver man.
you're welcome shiva.

* shiva- hindu diety meaning auspicious or favorable one. father of ganesha- the remover of obstacles.