I Was the Car Wreck…


As I came to the corner, it was the noise that first captured my attention. Not that the hallways weren’t always noisy… But, this was an unusually hyper buzzing, as if something had happened to shake up the hive and rile the bees.

The moment I stepped around the bend, I saw the crowd gathered and my first reaction was curiosity – the morbid, rubbernecking curiosity that arises when we pass a car wreck – when we know something horrendous has happened and we’re somehow drawn, even eager, to see it, as long as it hasn’t happened to us.

I picked up my speed just that little bit until it hit me…that was my locker they were gathered around! That was my territory where they huddled and snickered and whispered. I inched my way closer, trying not to give myself away as owner of the property, but trying to get close enough to see or hear what had happened. Then I saw it …. yes, IT! Yes, truly, I WAS the car wreck!

There – pulled tightly across my locker for all to see – was my bra – my black silky, lacy bra! But, HOW? WHY? WHO? I had it tucked away so well in the back of my locker! My mind raced in a million directions!

I can hear your question – Why? Why did I have my black lacy bra in my locker in the first place?

Well, the answer to that is quite simple, really. The previous day had been yearbook picture day. I HATE picture day, and so, of course, I had forgotten all about it. Unfortunately, I needed to get my picture taken in my band uniform – my band uniform with the white, somewhat see-through, top. Naturally, having forgotten all about it, I had worn a lovely black sheer blouse which required my lovely, black lace bra!

But, never fear! That’s what bestie’s are for! Jackie, my best friend, also had to have her picture taken.  However, her uniform had a yellow top with a blue vest. Knowing that the color of her double-barreled sling shot was not nearly as important as mine, we snuck in the girls’ room and exchanged my black for her white. Easy peasy. Pictures taken and we went about our day.

Of course, being the stellar friends that we were, we took each other’s garments home, had them washed and brought them back that next day in inconspicuous unmarked brown lunch bags. I had discreetly placed my in the very back of my top locker shelf behind my Algebra and Chemistry books. I was sure it would be safe there until the end of the day. Apparently, I was wrong.

And, so, here I stood, panic-stricken. How was I going to retrieve this object of reproach without giving away that I was it’s owner?! This was my senior year! Is this how I wanted to go down in school history?! Did I want this captured for all eternity in the yearbook?! I had to come up with a plan, and fast, before the bell rang for our next class!

As is frequently the case, before my mind could form a strategy, faculty showed up on the scene. Mr. Brennan, his classroom closest to my offending locker, had heard the commotion from inside his room and come out to investigate. I caught a shadow of a smirk cross his face as he took in the “proud” banner waving across the lockers. He dispersed the crowd, removed the garment and quietly walked over to me. He folded the bra neatly, handed it to me and said, “Could you please see to it that this gets to wherever it needs to go? I’d appreciate that.” I answered in the affirmative. He nodded and walked back into his classroom.

Of course, I knew he was acting purely on the fact that I was one of his best students and he felt he could trust me. But, I stood in that hall and thanked God for Mr. Brennan. Then looking around to be 100% sure the last of the crowd had dispersed, I shoved my bra into my purse and zipped it up. It wasn’t getting out of my sight again until it was safely home in my drawer where it belonged!

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