Funny Fridays with K Sku - Why You Should Take the Stairs

I’m not sure at what point my life became a walking 3 Stooges storyline but it definitely has.  It could be that the daily wear of 3 inch stilettos makes me more prone to falling...  Maybe it’s because I don’t watch where I’m going so I run into walls...  Or maybe, unbeknownst to myself, I break a mirror every 7 years to receive this bad luck... Regardless of the what, when, where and why.  It happens.  And it happens frequently.

This incident dates back to 2006.  I actually had forgotten all about it until I was at a Christmas party a few years ago meeting my friend’s now husband for the first time when she says, “Kristina, I just told Dan the escalator story!”  Sadly she had to remind me what she was referring to and then it all came flooding back.  I don’t know how I forgot.

My friend Jennie had just gotten a new job out of college and I wanted to take her out to lunch to celebrate.  We both worked Downtown Minneapolis so we decided to go to Marshal Fields (previously known as Daytons and now known as Macys).  They had a great little area on the top floor that had all types of foods cafeteria style.

It was time to get back to the office so Jennie wasn’t late her first week of work.   We were riding on the escalator, chatting away, when all of a sudden I feel a little tug.  I look down and what do I see?

MY PANTS STUCK IN THE ESCALATOR.

Realizing what’s happening I yell “SHIT” and start tugging as hard as I can.  As I’m tugging I see the bottom of the escalator getting closer.   There are many problems with this:

A)  Remember those cotton bell bottom type pants that were popular 5 years ago?  Yeah the

ones that had an elastic waistband and were  loose flowing?  I was wearing those.

Translation: I could be pants-less at any given moment.  

B)  It was lunch hour so it was ridiculously crowded.  

And the biggest problem...

C)  I had the ugliest pair of underwear on!  

So.  I see my end getting closer.   A stranger rushes down to help and starts tugging on my pants to try to loosen them.  As we are both pulling as hard as we can to get them out of the escalator what is Jennie doing?  Laughing.  Laughing so hard she’s crying.   

Fortunately for me, a very quick thinking employee must have heard the yelping and rushes from the floor above, down the escalator, to the bottom where she pushes stop.   I was about a foot from the bottom.   Whew.  I was saved.   

(BTW - Jennie is still laughing....I’m taking applications for new friends.)

I am now standing on a stopped escalator.  I say thank you to the stranger and continue to tug at my pants that are clearly not coming out anytime soon.  The quick thinking employee is frantically calling for security and the store manager.  People are walking down the stopped escalator staring and trying not to laugh in my face.   Sales clerks are leaving their posts to come over and see what all the commotion is about.  Jennie is still laughing.

The employee is back from calling security and the manager.   She tells me they’ll be along shortly.   I say “Really, it’s not a big deal.  If you can just give me a scissors I’ll be on my way.  I have to get back to work.”   Apparently that was too much to ask for.  The now less helpful employee responds,  in a I can’t believe you would ask me that tone, “Oh no ma’am.  We have to wait for the manager and security.”

It feels like forever and I’m still standing there.  Jennie’s still laughing.  Sales clerks are still coming over to stare so I ask them for a scissors and they scurry off shaking their heads like I asked them to let me walk out of the store with their cash drawer.

Now I’m pissed, my patience is running thin and I just want to go back to work.   Probably noticing the very prominent scowl on my face the now not at all helpful employee says, “Security will probably just have you wrap a towel or tarp around your waist so you can take your pants off and they can get them unstuck for you.”

Me = fuming.  Security shows up just in time to hear me say in my nicest yet sternest voice, “I will not take my pants off in the middle of this store.  Give me a scissors, now.”

Security speaks into his walkie talkie:  “Customer would like a scissors.  Customer would like a scissors.”

I’m finally given a scissors and I hand them to Laughy McLaugherton who needs to cut me out because I can’t do it myself.  We head back to the office where I sit with my cut up pant leg telling the story to anyone and everyone.

You know what the worst part is?  Marshal Fields took my information to send me a gift card to replace my pants.  A gift card I never received.  Total bummer.