I now know what happens  when your long sweepy skirt gets caught in the edge of an escalator.

The place had been built about ten years ago so your mileage may vary. I don’t know how long it was in there, just that we had about one step to go when the thing jammed.

And I was stuck.

I pulled.

My mom pulled.

We couldn’t just stay like this–and it was outside in the sun. Lupus demanded I get out of there. I gave it one last try pulling a little more this away–a small tear, a lot of black grease, and I went tumbling backwards,  free at last.

The sympathetic young man coming up behind us that we only noticed just then was going wow at the predicament and cheering us on.

The escalator did not start up again. Clearly it required a reset. Good. It should.

Mom sewed it and the rest will have to wait: Crisco rubbed into it followed  by liquid detergent a few times and it should come out.