The scene of the crime, as swiped from skyscrapers.com.
I hate bra-shopping. I mean, I'm not much of a shopper for anything, but buying bras is especially annoying. So when my old ones were all disintegrating, I went to Hypermart, Indonesia's version of Walmart, and bought a cheap one without even trying it on. It fits OK, but the company that made it apparently isn't familiar with modern elastic technology, so it has no stretch at all and thus comes unhooked several times a day. Then I have to find a hidden place and go through a series of contortions to hook it back together.
I had to come back from Bangkok early, so I booked a flight through Singapore. At the Singapore airport, I lounged around, had some Indian food, checked my email, etc. Suddenly I remembered I had to check in for the flight. I stood in line for twenty minutes while the guy ahead of me had a nice long chat with the woman at the counter. Finally I presented her with the printout of my reservation."Oh, you have to go through Immigration," she said.
"What?!" I said in a panic. "My flight leaves in twenty minutes!"
"Oh, well, then just go to the gate," she replied. So I started running for the gate. Except, of course, my bra came unhooked, so I had to sort of hunch over and cross my arms in front of me. At that instant, I got a weird, incredibly painful cramp in the arch of my left foot, so I was limping along doubled over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame under my heavy backpack.
I got to the gate and, in accordance with Adam Air policy, the woman behind the counter was as mean as TWO snakes. She turned me away without so much as a grunt of sympathy. The flight was leaving, and I was toast.
I have to admit, dear reader, at that point I stomped out of the gate area, sat down in the corridor, and bawled my head off. It was absurd, because missing a cheap flight is hardly the worst thing that can happen; I'd spent all week writing about REALLY bad things that happen to people. But I was tired, all my clothes were dirty, the trip was already financially dicey, and now I was going to have to spend a lot of money for a night in Singapore I didn't remotely desire.
Finally I dried myself out and took the train into town, where I sit writing this at an internet cafe. The Indian woman who runs the place and her small child have just spontaneously broken into song, and I'm starting to feel better.
So, the moral of my story is: check in for your flight early, and for heaven's sake buy a bra with elastic next time.