I spent the entire day today feeling a bit uneasy. It wasn’t the election, though that is concerning. It wasn’t the economy, though that is monkey-shit crazy. No, it was something else entirely that was causing my feelings of creeping distress.
My jeans were just a bit too short.
That’s right. The entire day, as I walked or sat, I would notice that I just didn’t feel right. I was seeing more sock than usual, yes, but it wasn’t like I was wearing Capri pants or anything. Then, as I strolled by the mirrored reflection of the office elevator doors, it hit me. These jeans are just a bit too short. I tried the quick fix, pulling them down a bit lower, but I figured showing that much butt crack was probably worse than showing that much ankle. Especially since I’m a dude, no matter what the regretful decision of getting that “tramp stamp” tattoo may have you believe. I admit it; I used to drink quite a bit.
How did this happen? When I tried them on in the store they weren’t this short. Sure, they were a little shorter than I normally buy, but those jeans were looking sloppy on me. I even asked the saleswoman, “Do these shrink in the length?” “No, I have some and they didn’t shrink at all”, she said. Maybe I wasn’t clear. Maybe I should have asked “Did you buy the jeans in this store” or “Are you lying to me so that I will buy these jeans?”
Frankly, I don’t really feel good about the way they fit in general after washing. The are a little too loose around the waist and hips, then they get tighter through the thighs, then they even taper a bit down to my ankles, where they stop with such an abruptness that it would seem that the pants were afraid of my shoes. They may be women’s jeans for all I know, or maybe I am just not feeling very pretty today. God, if we only had some ice cream. No, no…I am too fat as it is.
It’s almost like they are some sort of “trick” pants. No, I am not talking about pants I would go have sex for money in…not that kind of trick. I mean seriously, the way these things fit, there is no way I would be getting any ass. By “trick” I am referring to the way they fit fine in the store, and then suddenly turn into MC Hammer pants once you throw them in the washer.
I suppose I can just throw these into the back of the closet with all of the other clothing that has eventually come to disappoint me. To be fair though, most of those clothes have a chance if I lose, or gain, a few pounds. The odds of me losing height are a bit lower now that I no longer harvest wheat with a scythe. Ah, those were the days.
My jeans were just a bit too short.
That’s right. The entire day, as I walked or sat, I would notice that I just didn’t feel right. I was seeing more sock than usual, yes, but it wasn’t like I was wearing Capri pants or anything. Then, as I strolled by the mirrored reflection of the office elevator doors, it hit me. These jeans are just a bit too short. I tried the quick fix, pulling them down a bit lower, but I figured showing that much butt crack was probably worse than showing that much ankle. Especially since I’m a dude, no matter what the regretful decision of getting that “tramp stamp” tattoo may have you believe. I admit it; I used to drink quite a bit.
How did this happen? When I tried them on in the store they weren’t this short. Sure, they were a little shorter than I normally buy, but those jeans were looking sloppy on me. I even asked the saleswoman, “Do these shrink in the length?” “No, I have some and they didn’t shrink at all”, she said. Maybe I wasn’t clear. Maybe I should have asked “Did you buy the jeans in this store” or “Are you lying to me so that I will buy these jeans?”
Frankly, I don’t really feel good about the way they fit in general after washing. The are a little too loose around the waist and hips, then they get tighter through the thighs, then they even taper a bit down to my ankles, where they stop with such an abruptness that it would seem that the pants were afraid of my shoes. They may be women’s jeans for all I know, or maybe I am just not feeling very pretty today. God, if we only had some ice cream. No, no…I am too fat as it is.
It’s almost like they are some sort of “trick” pants. No, I am not talking about pants I would go have sex for money in…not that kind of trick. I mean seriously, the way these things fit, there is no way I would be getting any ass. By “trick” I am referring to the way they fit fine in the store, and then suddenly turn into MC Hammer pants once you throw them in the washer.
I suppose I can just throw these into the back of the closet with all of the other clothing that has eventually come to disappoint me. To be fair though, most of those clothes have a chance if I lose, or gain, a few pounds. The odds of me losing height are a bit lower now that I no longer harvest wheat with a scythe. Ah, those were the days.
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