Mini Pencils

My Very Personal Battle with mini-skirt-aphobia
Mini-skirt. The only word used to send shivers down my spine. This is what happens when you have a traumatic experience - and I did. In the young impressionable age of 16 my mind and soul have been marked distrust most times.

While still in high school, I took some college courses. I spend half my day at school and half to the local junior college. Although it has been nearly 10 years, that day is etched in my mind. It was speech class. I was sitting in my seat waiting for the rest of the students arrived and for the class to begin. Darlene, the student most beautiful women in the class, hands down, walked in. As usual, she was dressed in the hottest, hippest clothing. That day he arrived in a mini skirt, blue blouse, short sleeve white shirt and a pair of flats.

She walked to a seat, a line in front of me. Then it happened. As she was putting her books on his desk, his pencil fell to the ground! A hush fell over those in the immediate vicinity. She stared pencils, frozen in terror. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. It was as if we were all the statues, unable to do anything but watch the tragedy unfolding before us.

The beautiful young girl, the daughter was dressed, the girl every guy wanted, and all the girls wanted to be, stood there, unable to act, unable to perform the simplest tasks. All the guys around, just waited and watched, trying to keep drool impatience. Her skirt was so mini, I do not see how she would pick up those pencils of his own. Any measure to bend over or reach for pencils have waved hello to her back all the spectators.

She began to pay attention, and stopped. She tried to squat with knees together. She could not do. I could see that this moment has been done for her. His face turned red, then began to fade to white. Sweat broke out of his forehead. Her breathing became shallow and frantic. She entered the realm of a full-on panic attack. Her pain was almost unbearable to watch. She kept trying different approaches to the total satisfaction of hormone motor guy in the crowd, but she could not reach her pencils without attracting a crowd.

After what felt like hours for us, and an eternity to the poor Darlene, a young girl sitting two desks shook away from the trance we were all, and came to the rescue by capturing the pencils soil and place them on the desktop. Darlene has never been the same. It has always been nervous, running the humiliation of that day. For the rest of this semester, it was different, fear, fear, lack the bright glow and the confidence it has already done. She never wore a miniskirt again.

To witness such suffering, anguish and pain, a deep impact on me. I could not watch, or even consider wearing a mini skirt. I was convinced it would only result in agony. Then one day, many years later, two friends very stubborn and determined face and made me overcome my mini-skirt-aphobia. My friends convinced me that Darlene could easily avoid the pain and misery, she was inundated with that day in the class of speech. They showed me that miniskirts are fabulous pieces of clothing for those who have the right techniques and tools. They do not have to be the ultimate cause of suffering, if you know how to wear one.

Of course, I was not wearing my mini-skirt in public until I had two skills - sitting without giving a show, and picking up things (like pens) from the ground without flashing my bum. I have come a long way since that day in the classroom discourse. I am a miniskirt pro now, years of experience under my belt agony free.

I think that Darlene poor time to time and can not help but pity the poor girl. .