It happened ten years ago, and I seem to have already written somewhere...

I went somehow with my ex-wife to the bank to pay the loan. Summer, it is hot, the doors of the bank are tight and in the brains a light fog from a light sunshine caused by chronic ignorance of wearing headsets of the type of "panama".

I took the receipt and we went away from the box window to a small table attached to the wall and several chairs around it. Then I sat down on my chair and started filling out this receipt. I carefully design and feel the side-sighted movement of my wife. It seemed to me that she slightly turned out on the chair and I once again plunged into the process of filling the dull twenty signs, in the meantime admired by the slightly opened from the jeans with the low waist back of my spouse.
Here my attention was drawn by the label from her red tango trousers, naturally spinning out of jeans. Not long thinking, I took it (the label) and pulled it up, wishing to break it off. I have to say that I hate to tolerate all kinds of spinning pieces like threads and other shells. Well, the first attempt ended in a crash - the stretched rubber of the cowards managed to cope with the force of the label's friction and sent the last with a sound shell into the native penates, or more precisely into the ass. But my character, who never stopped in the face of difficulties without long thinking, sent my hand to her in the pants. I pulled the stubborn label out and, having decided that either I or he, tightly pressed it with a doubled force and pulled it up. The label proved to be stronger and for the second time and with an unchanging armor disappeared in seductive half-drinks.
Events followed rapidly. By the movement of the buttocks I understand that their hostess begins a steep twist, and, deciding that she wants to explain to me, I raise my eyes.
I’ve never seen more open eyes and an open mouth of turbulent indignation in my life. In front of me was a completely strange girl and from indignation could not say a word. The only thing I made out of my mind in this situation was, “Sorry, I thought it was OUR cowards.” The girl exploded abruptly and evaporated in the open doors of the bank under the friendly hustle of a few visitors.
It turned out, when I was already very interested in filling out my receipt, my wife went to a distant corner of the hall, to some of her acquaintances and her place was taken by the victim. And it must happen that she was wearing the same jeans, topics and, most importantly, red tangas - their mother so.
My wife later told me she didn’t see anything.