That’s it. NO MORE PANTS.

It’s official: The entire Pants population is against me.

Allow me to explain.

A few weeks ago, I discovered that my favorite pair of jeans had a hole near another hole, thus making them slightly inappropriate to wear in public. This happened soon after I had already declared that I needed new pants to wear to work.

So I went shopping for pants. <Please imagine your montage music here>

First stop: The Thrift Store: The thrift store had pants. Many, many pants. None of these pants fit. Eh, what are you gonna do? Thrift stores are always hit or miss. Moving on!

Next up, The Consignment Shop: Alright, here we go, nice pre-owned pants. Wait, why are they all so wide-legged? Seriously, I have a tiny waist and these all fit around the hips, but MY LEGS ARE NOT TREE TRUNKS, PEOPLE. Is this the fashion now? Are we hiding our legs behind giant flowy curtains? I do not approve. I trip easily and this is not going to help me.

And finally, I saw what I needed. Right across the street I saw – I kid you not – The Pants Store: Yes. That was the name of the store. The Pants Store. And it was a big store. This was good. They would have ALL THE PANTS. The Heavens had opened up and angels sang as I ignored all traffic and made my way across the road to enter this beautiful gift from God. I walked in and saw racks and racks and racks of shirts. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?” I whisper-yelled. “WHERE ARE THE PANTS???” Finally I found them. Two small round racks of white-washed, pre-ripped capri-jeans.

So, I still have no new pants.

BUT, I do have some pants, so I’m not walking around Daffy-Duck style or anything, don’t worry.

Except…

The other day, it was pretty cold here in Stars Hollow, Connecticut, so I decided to wear some leggings underneath the only pair of appropriate work pants I own. I only mention the leggings because I honestly blame them for giving me a false sense of security later on.

After work, Boyfriend and I headed to the grocery store, but first, of course, I needed to pee. So I did and then we left. We got out of the car in the parking lot of the grocery store and as we were walking in, well…

Me: What is happening?

Boyfriend: You okay?

Me: Yeah, I think – is my purse hoola-hooping itself down my body?

Boyfriend: Excuse me?

Me: I feel something – did the belt dislodge itself from my jack– OH MY GOD MY PANTS ARE FALLING DOWN.

Yup. That happened. You know that cliche story about women who walk into the grocery store with their underwear static-clung to their pants or something?

THIS WAS NOT THAT. THIS WAS PANTS AROUND THE KNEES, PEOPLE.

Now, thank God I had the leggings on, right? WRONG. Had I not had the leggings on, I might not have felt so secure in my pants that in my haste to pee and then leave, I would have realized that they were not fastened and zipped properly. Or at all. Okay, fine, apparently I forgot to button and zip my pants when I left my bathroom. IT HAPPENS TO EVERYONE.

…right?

 

 

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3 Responses to That’s it. NO MORE PANTS.

  1. Julie says:

    We need to find you better pants.

  2. Pingback: All the puppies. |

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