Spanish Ankles

I met a couple of Air Force guys in the bar last night. We were on our way out when the conversation started, so we stayed for one more beer and gabbed a bit. I mean, we didn't really bond or anything, but it was chatting with them that reminded me of some of my favorite stories from the Air Force. That's another great thing about joining the military: Lifetime Guarantee of Great Storytelling!
When I was about 20 and had been in the Air Force for close to a year, I suppose, I was sitting in my office one sunny afternoon. I worked in a Personnel position, so I wore a skirt and pantyhose 4 days a week. I was stationed in Spain, and some of us girls noticed that the Spanish girls wore pantyhose with everything! The problem being that, in Spain, the pantyhose came in a one-size-fits-all package, so on the thinner, younger gals, it created an unattractive pool around their ankles that we liked to call: Spanish Ankles.
So, I was sitting at my desk one day, admiring my patent leather shoes. (I like to refer to them as Pat and Leather, as if my shiny black pumps were actually an old, gay comedy act with Pat being the androgynous, sarcastic wisecracker and Leather the rough and tumble "straight" man.) So, while enjoying a little Pat and Leather routine, I noticed that my pantyhose were kind of loose around my ankles!
Yikes! Spanish Ankles!
I said to no one in particular, "Oh, I feel like a Spanish girl today." My boss, SSgt Torres, who happened to be married to a Spanish girl, was instantly offended! "Why is that, Airman Harrison?!"
As God is my witness, I meant to say. "Because my pantyhose are sagging." But what came out of my mouth in the most matter-of-fact way a person could say anything was, "Because my panties are soggy."

Ugh.