Size 34 waist 30 length Khaki, Corduroy, Old Navy Carpenter pants with a side strap for a hammer ("good evening, your excellency. How hangs the hammer?" -George Carlin). These are the most comfortable pants I ever remember wearing. They feel better than worn in jeans, yet look professional enough to wear to work. Having said that, they have fallen into disrepair. Probably 2 years ago the back right pocket got caught on something and was nearly ripped off. Luckily the hole was not large enough to take away from the overall presence. I just stopped using that pocket. The front, right-hand pocket where I keep my keys had become another story, however. First the corduroy became worn away. It started to look like a bald spot (yeah, I know. Keep your smart-ass comments to yourself!). Then, about 2 weeks ago I noticed a hole started to be worn into the thinning fabric. At this point I should have retired the pants. They have served me well. I just couldn't let them go.
This brings us to 2 Thursdays ago (or thereabouts). I was on the job and it was about 1:45 pm. I was having a disagreement with a co-worker pertaining to Jolt Cola. I insisted that that was in fact the name of this highly caffeinated beverage and that the label was red with white lettering and a yellow lightning bolt going through the "O". He countered that it was actually Jolt Energy drink and had a different colored label, let's say blue. I had yet another co-worker go to the computer to download an image and prove myself right and the other party wrong ("what an asshole! "-the horse and buggy man). I was squeezing my way between a table and the back of a chair with a loose bolt sticking out when I looked up at the computer screen and saw the exact Jolt label that I had described minutes before. I called everyone's attention to the screen pointing out that I was right and the other person was wrong (man, that really is an asshole thing to do!)
"And they tried to tell me otherwise!" I announced, just as I heard a RRRRIIIIIPPPPPPPPPP! I then felt a cool breeze where there should not have been one. I looked down to see that the frayed pocket of those treasured pants had caught the loose bolt and had torn a hole revealing a pale, hairy thigh.
Needless to say, there were 15 people pointing and laughing at me ("as I lay in a pool of my own blood..." no, it wasn't quite that bad). What could I do? I joined the laughter. It was hilarious. I grabbed some masking tape and did this...

Later, as we were walking out of the building, people were asking me about my new fashion trend. A witness relayed the tale as he saw it, "Yeah, you were acting all cocky because you were right about that label, and then RIP!"
I stopped and thought about it and said, "I guess you're right. What a jerk. That's what I get."
1 comment:
You know, I had something similar happen to me - but it was the crotch! The only thing available to me was a stapler.
Needless to say - I'd rather people see the boys than put staples near them! Embarrassing? You bet!
I sympathize!
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