I drove through Compton with no pants on and all I got was this lousy T-shirt
I finished work yesterday at around 2:00pm. Surprisingly early! I hopped in my rental car in my work clothes, figuring I'd bomb through LA as fast as possible and hopefully beat most of the traffic before I changed.
For some reason, at 2:00pm, everybody north of LA wants to drive downtown. Everybody. With that volume of traffic, I refuse to believe there was a single bar, restaurant, living room, or movie theater with anyone in it. So traffic was less than crawling. I was averaging between 8 and 12mph. So I decided to get off the 5 and try another highway; and if the 110 wasn't moving, I was just going to drive west until I hit water.
My work clothes, after about an hour and a half, were making me less than comfortable. My pants are a wool blend, and I'm slightly allergic to wool, so I started getting pretty itchy, which was only adding to my frustration with the situation. Coupled with the fact that the stupid, bloodsucking rental car company has outfitted all its rentals with satellite radio that you have to pay extra for and the only station I was getting was the emergency station, I was getting mighty pissed off.
So I figured, hey. Traffic isn't really moving. My pants are making me crazy. I'll change! I had my jeans in the front seat. No problem. So, work pants off (aaah). Then, I realized that putting pants ON while driving is way way harder than taking them off. I didn't want to risk being the girl who has to explain to the police why I got in an accident with no pants on, so I figured I was better off just to wait until I could pull off the highway. Then traffic loosened up a little bit and I didn't want to waste that... so there I was, drivin' with no pants. It's not like it was indecent exposure, but there I was, with my ultra-conservative work shirt and sweater on... and no pants. Praying that a truck doesn't drive by and decide to glance down.
So, traffic finally packed up again and I thought, OK, I'll just get off here and get me some pantsage.
Thought I'd glance at the map to see how far I'd made it.
Guess where I was!
Compton.
Yes, that's right, I've driven through Compton with no pants on and lived to tell the tale.
Needless to say, I did not pull off, and drove most of the way to San Diego with a cool breeze. Aah.
For some reason, at 2:00pm, everybody north of LA wants to drive downtown. Everybody. With that volume of traffic, I refuse to believe there was a single bar, restaurant, living room, or movie theater with anyone in it. So traffic was less than crawling. I was averaging between 8 and 12mph. So I decided to get off the 5 and try another highway; and if the 110 wasn't moving, I was just going to drive west until I hit water.
My work clothes, after about an hour and a half, were making me less than comfortable. My pants are a wool blend, and I'm slightly allergic to wool, so I started getting pretty itchy, which was only adding to my frustration with the situation. Coupled with the fact that the stupid, bloodsucking rental car company has outfitted all its rentals with satellite radio that you have to pay extra for and the only station I was getting was the emergency station, I was getting mighty pissed off.
So I figured, hey. Traffic isn't really moving. My pants are making me crazy. I'll change! I had my jeans in the front seat. No problem. So, work pants off (aaah). Then, I realized that putting pants ON while driving is way way harder than taking them off. I didn't want to risk being the girl who has to explain to the police why I got in an accident with no pants on, so I figured I was better off just to wait until I could pull off the highway. Then traffic loosened up a little bit and I didn't want to waste that... so there I was, drivin' with no pants. It's not like it was indecent exposure, but there I was, with my ultra-conservative work shirt and sweater on... and no pants. Praying that a truck doesn't drive by and decide to glance down.
So, traffic finally packed up again and I thought, OK, I'll just get off here and get me some pantsage.
Thought I'd glance at the map to see how far I'd made it.
Guess where I was!
Compton.
Yes, that's right, I've driven through Compton with no pants on and lived to tell the tale.
Needless to say, I did not pull off, and drove most of the way to San Diego with a cool breeze. Aah.
posted by M at 9:57 AM
5 Comments:
From what I hear, Compton knows to keep it rockin'. I'm sure they would've taken a pantsless lady in otherwise smart business attire in stride.
There would've been demands to "Shake, shake it, mama," but for a girl with enough dexterity to drop trou while driving, that should pose no problem.
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Something is wrong with me. I got a little aroused by this post. Un gros merci!
Haha! Do it Cali. In the citaaay, the city of Compton.
I hate, *hate* LA traffic with a perfect hatred.
But it's all good, from Diego to tha Bay.
-Suley
How very Mr. Bean of you, LOL!
Dh and I once went out to eat, stopped off for some outdoor backroad fun and drove home naked, LOL!
I'm glad you lived to tell your tale. :o)
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