Cloudy With A Chance of Humiliation

It's an eye for an eye situation over here in the S.O. It's all about my Ocular Oy Gevalt, my Cataract Catastrophe, my... hang on, I'm thinking of one more... my Visionary Victimization. Let's just say things are cloudy with a chance of humiliation. Take yesterday. Please. I'm in Frieda's kitchen. We've just returned from a construction site, the future home of her darling daughter and son-in-law. White dust, courtesy of what promises to be a spectacular dwelling, now covers my stylish black leather tennies. So I lean over and wipe off the powder with a nice damp paper towel, and suddenly it hits me like a frozen kugel. Oh, dear god, what fresh hell is this? At the bottom of my pants, a hint of black fabric mocks me, something I clearly didn't see when I put them on, because I can't see for ka-ka. My first thought: aha! mine hem has come undone, thanks to a wayward nail. No biggie. I remain calm. I pull on the fabric, just a little even though I shouldn't, pulling makes everything worse, it's right there in my pocket Torah, yet now I can focus, more or less, on what I'm dealing with here. Oh. Okay. It's not an unleashed hem. Oh no, it's so much worse. It's... underwear. You heard me. Underwear. How this has happened, I'll never know for sure, could be a laundry mishap, a static cling issue, but in any event, somehow a pair of black sensible undies latched onto the bottom district of my jeans, and I've been walking around like this for the past few hours. Now Frieda and her hubby Eggy start in with the theories of how the underwear got there, and what would've happened if the underwear had detached from my pant leg and become evidence in a crime scene, and well, the rest of what the three of us come up with in our X-rated version of "The Curious Case of The Underwear" is too risqué to share, I'm just too much of a lady, but I will tell you this: In our naughty scenario, Frieda's on her way to jail to serve a life sentence for doing away with that scoundrel Eggy, on account of my wayward underwear. Stay tuned for whatever dishonor greets your humble, eye-challenged SJG today.