Losing my trousers in my lunch hour

Over the last couple of years, I have been making an effort to discount 'fear of looking stupid' as a reason not to do things. It's something that I feel has probably held me back at some points, and although I am not really shy, there are times when I have stood on the sidelines of something I wanted to join in with because I was worried about looking a tit. A look at almost any photo of me will reveal that this fear was entirely unfounded, as I have realised that I spend a large amount of time looking like a tit anyway, because my face does complicated and unwarranted things when I am not paying attention to it. But when I started swimming in my lunch breaks, there was no such fear - I worried that I would run over a small child as I drove into the car park of the school where the pool is, but I think that's relatively rational. I didn't worry about losing my trousers though, which is why I had no action plan when it happened. I went swimming as was usual, got changed, got in the pool, did some lengths and got out again. It wasn't until I was actually standing in a top, a towel and a pair of flip flops that I had a rummage around for my trousers. Assuming that I must be missing them somehow within the confines of the not entirely roomy canvas bag I take swimming, I had another rummage. 'Doh' I though as I abandoned the changing room to find the locker where I had stashed my stuff during swimming, assuming that they must have worked their way loose and escaped while I was trying to pick up all my stuff without getting it all wet. They weren't there, nor were they in the locker below, or any of the adjoining lockers. I went back into the changing cubicle for another fruitless search of my bag. I then began to wonder whether it wasn't that I had somehow managed to lose my trousers, but that someone had stolen them. I decided it was very unlikely that there is a pervert in the changing rooms who only likes trousers - my underwear was in there, so I figured the chances that someone would choose to steal my trousers were pretty minimal. So after I had looked in all the lockers in the changing rooms, all the cubicles and various other areas where I thought trousers might lurk, I decided to ask at the front desk, so I shuffled out into reception in my top and towel, only to find that instead of a friendly receptionist there was a group of school children waiting for their lesson. Evidently, I looked quite amusing but after bearing their sniggers for a short while, I decided to go and have a really good look in the changing rooms again, in case a pair of chocolate brown trousers had somehow been camouflaged against the white tiles or grey locker interiors. I had just decided that the only course of action was to flee to my car in my towel, ring work and tell them I was feeling suddenly sick, and then go home and try to avoid all our neighbours between getting out of the car and making my way into the safety of the house. I was happy to admit that I had lost my trousers, but I wanted to be there when people found out as I could only begin to imagine what would be said in the office if I wasn't there to answer questions. Fortunately, as I completed one final sweep of the changing rooms and gathered up my bags I saw one of the boys who works there wandering around and collared him. My relief was short lived as I tried to ask if they had found my trousers without sounding like a complete tit - I'm not entirely sure if it's possible to ask for missing trousers without sounding like a tit, but I am entirely sure that I can't. But the boy produced the trousers from under the counter and asked if they were the ones I was after (how many pairs of trousers did they have back there?), and I made my way back to the changing rooms with my trousers and the new-found love I had for my trousers and made my way back to the office without having to make any excuses. I did subsequently tell people about the mishap, but at least I was there to explain that it's a lot easier than it looks to lose a pair of trousers over lunch...