Look out below

(This actually happened on my walk from the office to the station last Tuesday evening. No details have been embellished.)

The Pegasus Building in downtown L.A. was renovated a few years ago, so I presume it's apartments. Judging from the lobby, and given that it's in downtown (and the good part of downtown), I further presume they're expensive apartments, catering to the young, single professionals who at least believe they make enough to afford it.

It's not a hotel. That much is certain. The people who are inside either live there or are visiting someone who lives there.

The doors of the main entrance are set in about 20 feet from the sidewalk. In that stretch of sidewalk directly in front of that open area leading to the doors there is a long grate covering the exhaust vents for the underground train station (which itself stretches underground for blocks beneath the buildings along that street). In the evening it's not uncommon for warm air to be rushing upward through the openings in the grate. Even when that's not the case, I often see people walking down the sidewalk divert their path deliberately to not walk over it but instead trace its periphery by walking in that open area outside the Pegasus doors.

One would assume that the residents of the building are aware of the grate, being right outside their front door.

Shortly after 7, I walked along the sidewalk and noticed a young woman in a floral print dress come out of the Pegasus. She strolled from the door toward the sidewalk in slow, lingering steps, twirling her hair with her left hand. From her insouciant pace I would guess she was waiting for a paramour to pull up to the curb to pick her up for an evening out.

Mindlessly she continued toward the sidewalk as I continued in a perpendicular direction up the sidewalk and over the grate. Just as I was about to pass her she reached the grate, and out of the corner of my eye I saw that she clearly was unaware that warm air was rushing out from it.

She had a full-on Marilyn Monroe in Some Like It Hot moment, with the skirt of her dress sailing up.

I didn't get any sort of good look as I was practically past her as this happened, but I heard her exclaim "woo!" in surprise and out of the corner of my eye caught a glimpse of white (which I interpreted as indicating she did have on underwear—we can no longer assume that to be the case here in L.A.) before she grabbed the skirt with her flailing arms and covered her lower half.

I kept walking without breaking stride and without turning my head to look at her directly. I didn't want her to see me smirking. I didn't get the impression that she was too terribly embarrassed by the incident; there aren't that many people on the street at that time of evening in that part of downtown, so at most a handful of eyes may have witnessed it. And now she had an amusing anecdote to relate when her date arrived.

I hope he appreciates that her anticipation of his arrival filled her thoughts so completely that she couldn't even remember that striding over the grate was likely to reveal her undergarments to the world (even if only for a second).

Of course, if it were a date for which she held that level of anticipation, wouldn't she be wearing fancier panties than white ones? So, if it wasn't a date…

I dare not speculate further.

Well, I'm sure she'll remember the next time she goes out…