On a tall woman, the crotch hangs at knee level so she's forced to crouch and shuffle like Quasimodo. If a woman's vertically challenged, they slither downward, pooling around her ankles like a reptilian second skin. My troubles began with pantyhose.
For a Friday, it had been relatively tranquil. No fights, no blood spilled, no weapons displayed. All in all, a good day for a teacher of behavior-disordered teenagers with a few felons thrown in for good measure. The queen of Bedlam, that's me...