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Tonight was my sorority's semiformal.
Except for that part when we thought it would be cute and fun to ride on firetrucks (since it was called the fireman's ball, and it was at a fire station).
Random fact: Not cute and fun.
Turns out, a phobia of falling isn't so great when you are sitting on the edge of the top of a firetruck. And it's really not so hot when you are climbing up and down a ladder that could double as practice for a rock climber.
In a dress.
My foot does not go up to my waist, lay flat, and then push me up.
Especially not when I'm quivering in fear.
And climbing down was a REAL treat.
(Well, probably not... BUT...) Ask them what color panties I was wearing. They can probably tell you.
Hell, they could probably tell you intimate details about my vagina after some of the views that they got.
In helping me down, some man grabbed my ass.
It was NOT helpful.
Oh, and there's more. After the first trip, I told the social chair of my sorority that I didn't want to ride the firetruck home. I wanted to walk. We were just off campus, and I did NOT want back on that damn truck.
Apparently it's policy that you HAVE to leave in the same vehicle you came in.
And it wasn't any more cute and fun the second time around.
In fact, it was worse.
It was worse, because I knew what was going to happen.
So I held onto a man in the center of the top of the truck (cause I somehow managed to get seated on the edge again) for dear life.
When we got back to campus, it was time to remove ourselves from the truck once again.
The people at the end of the truck climbed off and then, because in my frozen panic state I was slow to move, some people behind me started to move toward the ladder, and I said, "Someone better let me off of this damn truck right now."
A process which, once again, allowed the world visual access to my thinly veiled vagina.
Some lovely women firefighters fixed my dress for me after I flashed everyone my vajayjay and still didn't release my death grip on the ladder.