The downward spiral into debauchery

The past two years have brought social faux pas, mainly bad fashion choices, at various dinners for allied organizations. I remembered at the last minute that tonight was the annual dinner for just such an organization (making it the 4th weekend in a row where I've worked at least one day). And the LWV has a rather older, more conservative membership. The skirt, blouse, and heels I chose this time were perfectly fine --this time an entirely different embarrassing episode took place.

One of the LWV women came up to say hi to both me and the woman sitting next to me at the dinner table. (It's worth noting that the woman next to me was a union organizer I serve on several committees with, and she brought her partner to the dinner. She stood up to greet our mutual acquaintance; I remained seated to eat my salad, because I hadn't eaten in six hours and the food took forever to come out.) The LWV acquaintance half-hugged me from behind, so I reached my arm akwardlybehind me, to try and pat her on the shoulder. Turns out my arm was longer than I thought, and instead of completing an awkward hug, I groped the other woman's boob for several seconds. Her partner gasped loudly, then tried to make light of the situation by declaring that everyone at the table should feel up their neighbor. From the others at the table I heard "Oh my" and "Oh dear" and saw shocked faces. I could only stammer profuse apologies and then feign interest in the program highlights.

Ironically, I went as a flasher to a Halloween party yesterday.