Marilyn Monroe I Am Not*

*But not for lack of effort.

For two days in a row I have worn a skirt and a pair of hose (I know; get over it). This morning's skirt was long and flowing, cascading to my ankles. After coming out of the subway station, while waiting to cross the street, I stood over a subway vent, completely oblivious to the (I learned a moment later) inevitable fate.

As a train careened into the station below, a WHOOSH of air blew my skirt up who-knows-how-high (the pantyhose prevented me from feeling anything on my legs). I let fly with a surprised Wooooo! and danced away from the grate, smoothing down my skirt and looking around for revealing smiles indicating a free peep show. None were found, which tells me there was either too little skin revealed or too little interest shown.