Friday, January 20, 2006
Make like my pants and split
So there I am, getting into the car for another magical commute to employment happyland. One foot on the ground, I put the other into the car, I lower my head to squeeze myself into the car, and as I'm sitting down--SHWIK--I feel something tearing down there.
For the whole ride I'm thinking, please ghod let it have been my underwear. When we get to work of course it's not my underwear, it's a long, impossible-to-hide split, not even along a seam, but about halfway between the buttcrack-seam and the back pocket.
So if you ever wondered how it feels to be at your desk, sitting on the packing tape you've used to repair your torn pants because that's the only kind of tape the receptionist had besides scotch tape, let me know and I'll describe the unique sensation in vivid detail.
Copyright 2004 Rich Bowen
For the whole ride I'm thinking, please ghod let it have been my underwear. When we get to work of course it's not my underwear, it's a long, impossible-to-hide split, not even along a seam, but about halfway between the buttcrack-seam and the back pocket.
So if you ever wondered how it feels to be at your desk, sitting on the packing tape you've used to repair your torn pants because that's the only kind of tape the receptionist had besides scotch tape, let me know and I'll describe the unique sensation in vivid detail.
Copyright 2004 Rich Bowen
