Have you ever experienced having your underwire slip out of the fabric? And you only notice it after realizing that there’s an object painfully poking your side where it has no business to be. Excruciating.
One can only (1) leave it there until one gets home, or (2) rush to the bathroom and pull the whole damned thing out.
If you’re too lazy to sew it back in, don’t throw it away. You can use it to poke a boy in the eye everytime he has the gall to say: “you know, for a 23-year old, you’re a couch potato.”
I am not “inactive”. I just live in a restricted country where my father would freak out if I go out and take a taxi to go to the gym. If I have to go walking or jogging, I would have to wait for Daddy to get home from work around 9-ish and ask him and my brother to accompany me (like a couple of bodyguards 😛). Suddenly, the consequences of the lack of freedom becomes my fault.