I do a quick mental inventory. My bus change is in my hand, my wallet in my breast pocket. Pants are rather ruined. I meant to do that look, and strode toward the bus. Business suit, tie, white shirt, dress socks and shoes, and leopard skin boxers.
Suit pants laying motionless on the sidewalk.
The people on the bus already got quite a show, but I was safe from the passengers yet to board, as I am tucked into my seat and shielded from view. Until, of course, I get off the bus. And I happen to get off the bus in the worst neighborhood in Minneapolis, because that s where I happen to work. A full two blocks from the bus stop. This is one of those neighborhoods where people have nothing better to do than sit around their porch all day and watch for exactly this kind of thing to happen in their neighborhood.