Flirting with Disaster

In light of the unseasonably spectacular weather we were having today, I decided to premiere my new white tank top and red hippy skirt combo a few months early.  Anyone close to me will tell you that I adore red, so changing out of my uniform of jeans and hoodie, and slipping on the ankle-length ruby number filled me with instantaneous confidence.  I felt like I could do anything or be anyone.  It was with this extra lust for life that I decided to go out and pick up some treats for my son and I.  I strolled down the street, I Pod at my hip, feeling like I was in a Lily Allen video.  I was lookin' and feelin' fine and, judging by the reaction I was getting from passers by, everyone was in agreement with me. 
Or so I thought.
Half a block from the shops, I passed a rather handsome looking fellow who, immune to my charms, barely glanced up from the bike he was working on.  I shrugged it off and pursued my course.  On the way back, however, his demeanour had changed.  On seeing me coming, he straightened up, grinned, and nodded in my direction.
'Hey...'
'Hey,' I replied in the sultriest voice I could manage. 
'That's a nice skirt.'
'Thanks.  Just got it a couple of days ago.'
He walked up to me and leaned in close to my ear, his hot breath unleashing Armageddon upon my insides.
'Your skirt's tucked into your undies.'