Archive for wrong pants

The Stupid Pants Affair

Posted in General with tags , , on December 15, 2009 by doseofsalt

Ok so the only reason I figured I’d post this is because it’s really really stupid.

You see I was in need of a new pair of pants. The pairs I had were equally as shabby and old and starting to fall apart. So I trucked my way to ye olde pants shoppe to make said purchase of pants.

I was however not ONLY looking for pants, I was also on the lookout for some shorts of two varieties! On the suggestion of my doctor I’m going to start swimming for fitness to help build some core strength and help lose some weight, so one variety of shorts I was after were the board variety. The other shorts I was after were just regular shorts which are basically short cut off versions of the pants I had come to get.

The pants I have bought a zillion times so I just grabbed my size down and put them in the counter. The two types of shorts I figured I’d best try on being a place where size can vary a lot depending on brand.

They fit fine so I paid and left the store.

Cut to a few days later and I’ve been wearing shorts the whole time. It SUCKS walking to the bus and work wearing a black tshirt and full length black pants in this heat so shorts it’s been. Come Monday I was driving in to work so I donned the new pants and headed down to the car.

I got in and started the car, backed out if the garage, got out of the car and closed the garge door. When I got back to the car to get in I had a lightbulb moment and realized I was wearing these pants for the first time…best check that I have my wallet. So I pat the area of my leg where my wallet always sits nice and secure in its cargo pocket. No wallet. FUCK.

Get into the car and pull it into a visitors park and dash back upstairs to get my wallet out of my shorts.

Find them in the floordrobe and get my wallet out if the pocket that the shorts and pants share due to their configuration and reach down to open the familiar velcro flap that secures said pocket closed and prevents my wallet and all it contains (mostly dust and old receipts) from spilling out all over the place should I chose to do a handstand or cartwheel.

My fingers grasp for the fabric protuberance but for some strange reason glide unimpinged up the fabric. “Must have missed it” I tell myself. “Try again”. Same result. My fingers just coast across my pants leg like some barren arctic tundra devoid of any outcropping of rock, trees, snow or indeed velcro fabric pocket closing flaps.

By this stage I’m well and truly in a state of confusion and bewilderment. What is this strange new leg region topography and how did I find myself here deep in it’s embrace, four days in with no sign of life or pockets (aside from the default 3 that most pants come equipped with) and no glimmer of cargo on the horizon?!

My gaze makes its way southbound to reconnoiter the region below the pants/shirt divide.

It seems that my initial survey of the region was made far too hastily as on this second trip it was quite clear that there was indeed no goldmine of pockets to be found. She wasn’t even giving me any flake.

So that is the story of how your humble narrator came to accidently buy the wrong pants.