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Thursday, July 14, 2011

Another Incident Involving Pants

T, the man who left the variable and sometimes violent climes of Minnesota for the appallingly warm lands of Florida, called to report that his pants have revolted.

My brain rolled over.

“That’s revolted,” he quickly repeated.

Ah, well, he knows me, doesn’t he, knew that my mind was spinning with ways in which to agree with him that his wardrobe could be considered revolting.

We are, after all, talking about a man who owns a tee-shirt that says, “It’s Not Going to Lick Itself”.

Poor T. The move has not been easy for him: there are limited employment opportunities on an island; free-roaming geckoes, everywhere; gangs of sea birds swirling overhead, mocking him.

The distance between Minnesota and Florida is not always measured with an odometer.

“I’ve looked everywhere,” he said.

“We’re still talking about your pants, right?”

He sighed. “Yes. They were here one minute…” he sighed again.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Have you been drinking?”

“No. Well, yes. But that’s not it…” he paused. “I just thought we had something special, you know?”

“Are we still talking about your pants?”

“Yes, dammit! I mean, we had an agreement! We would go to work, we would have some beers on the couch! I loved those pants! They were hardly stained and the crotch wasn’t even blown out!”

He went silent.

“It’s because I’m doing day labor, isn’t it? It’s because I haven’t found full-time work. Pearl, what if my pants have left me for someone who has more going on?”

I resisted the urge to enter into a conversation around what may or may not be going on in his pants.

“Look,” I said. “Do you have another pair of pants?”

A rather defeated-sounding sigh: “Yes.”

“Go talk to them,” I said. “You know your pants would never be able to keep a secret. See if your other pants know what’s up.”

I received a call several hours later by a relieved T, who found his favorite pants mixed in with another pair of pants under his bed. Things still seemed a bit muddled, but suffice it to say that there may have been some sort of interrupted rendezvous wherein the pants had suddenly found themselves surrounded by a mob of single, mismatched socks who were, oddly enough, planning a revolt.

T was downright cheerful.

“Did you know those pants were gay? I didn’t!” he chuckled briefly. “I mean, it’s not like they were pleated, you know what I mean?”

There was a pause as he took a drink.

“I threw them out immediately, of course. The socks, I mean, not the pants. I’ve never truly trusted socks, and now I know why.” There was another pause. “Do you think that maybe I instinctively had a distrust of socks for this very reason?”

I said nothing but smiled over the phone.

From the sounds of it, T was smiling, too.

“I’m just so glad everything is back to normal, aren’t you?”

I smiled again.

Glad? Yes.

Normal?

Sure. Why not.

43 comments:

haphazardlife said...

Is it because too many Minnesota winters affect a person's brain?

Chatty Crone said...

Good story. Hello Minnesota - how are you? Are you as hot there as we are here? Hot and humid - yet there has been no rain!

Thanks for visiting my blog.

Camille said...

I'll say it again - you can't trust pants...under or otherwise.

Pearl said...

haphazard, yes. Honestly, yes. We spend a lot of time thinking, trying to choose between drinking a lot and making jokes. :-)

Hello, Chatty! Minnesota is heading toward the mid-90s today, terribly humid, where we will stay until, oh, October. :-)

Camille, I've long been suspicious of pants. Glad I'm in good company!

Simply Suthern said...

Maybe if he would quit stuffing the socks down the front this could all be avoided. Im just say'in.

IndigoWrath said...

Hey Pearl!

My socks are always involved in outré couplings, even after I pair them up with their vanilla counterpart. Pants? I have no opinion. They're always where I left them; perhaps they are hermit pants?

And speaking of odometers, I used to work with a guy called "Myles Dunn". I was the only one who found it funny. Still.

Indigo x

Pearl said...

Simply? That was delightful.

Indigo! My socks have questionable morals as well. :-) And Myles Dunn IS funny.

Miss Scarlet said...

Good grief, for a moment I thought you were talking about revolting Y fronts. Or knickers. This cultural confusion always trips me up; after all this time you'd have thought I'd have learnt that pants are trousers.
Sx

Dawn @Lighten Up! said...

T. may have lost his pants. But I am going to steal his awesome "lick" t-shirt. ;)

Oilfield Trash said...

Oh my this was a great story.

Pearl said...

Miss Scarlet, I forget as well, although now I'm going to re-read it as you must've read it...

Dawn, he's the king of the slogan tee.

OT, thank you! :-)

Julia said...

I hate when my gay pants aren't pleated...I mean how can you tell...pandar...and my pandar only works if my pants are flamming.

He's lucky he caught them on time...he might have had to wash them twice... just sayin...

Miranda Hardy said...

Socks are evil things! They were beginning to corrupt the others, I see that. This is why socks are unnecessary here in Florida. They should have been confiscated at the border.

Sausage Fingers said...

All I have to say is: Yeah for kilts.....

ellen abbott said...

Sounds normal to me.

Pat said...

I'm just boggling at a blown out crotch.

Bossy Betty said...

OH! I totally mistrust socks! I do! Thank goodness I am not alone!

Mandy_Fish said...

I want that t-shirt. I'll wear it and give my husband significant looks.

Wow, that was awkward said...

At least his pants sound very sure of themselves. I've seen plenty of pants that decided to cut off their own legs to become shorts. Some pants just can't figure out who they really are.

George said...

I had never contemplated the sexual preference of clothing before. You have opened my eyes, things are now making sense.

mybabyjohn/Delores said...

Is anything normal in Pearlville? Just aking you know? It kind of sounds like a place you don't want to visit until you've had a few. Hard drinking cats and gay pants; what's next, turbulent t shirts traumatizing over tardy tanks?

Pearl said...

:-) You guys are funny.

And life is so much more interesting when there's a laugh involved.

Pat, I'm worried about your worry re: the blown-out crotch. Or am I the only one who knows men who seem to have torn the crotch out of their trousers? Not as a result of crazed passion, you understand, but because manual laborers tend to squat-stand-squat-stand a lot...

CarrieBoo said...

Um, I have blown the crotch out, on my pants. And I am definitely not a man. Well, maybe a little. ;)

Doubting Thomas said...

"it's not like they were pleated"... genius. I think I'll go segregate my flat-front slacks from the pleated ones to defuse the impending pants war. Who knew such chaos could live in the closet? :)

Susan in the Boonies said...

It could be worse...he could be taking his cats out for drinks.

Belle said...

Maybe I need to talk to some of my pants, because I am missing one pair that I loved. I have looked everywhere!
At first I thought the pants were missing because it was too hot to wear pants in Florida!

Eva Gallant said...

You just never know what's going on in those pants!

Beach Bum said...

Never trusted socks myself, anything that would freely live on a person's feet has issues. I wear my sandals all year.

mrwriteon said...

I absolutely refuse to think about the blown-out crotch on his pants. On the other hand, I want to be where geckoes are there. That means tropical. That means happy Ian

Friko said...

Does T wear shoes?
If so, what will they say? Perhaps you should instal an odometer after all.
As for the pants, good riddance, i say. When pants come alive and walk it's time to wave them goodbye with a happy heart.

Shelly said...

Again, another great laugh. Thanks, Pearl-

Shrinky said...

Pants are knickers over here, which makes your post all the funnier (I think you really meant "trousers", but I prefer to think of knickers..)!

lisleman said...

I'm surprised you did not bring up "boyfriend jeans" or the newest "ex-boyfriend jeans". What a great story.
Oh there may have been pocket pool involved in this too.

Mama Spaghetti said...

Ah...to be normal!

Too funny.

River said...

There's been some kind of revolution or party going on here in my socks drawer, several pairs have worn themselves out completely.

That Janie Girl said...

I love your sense of humor. And I guess it runs in the family? Crazy girl.

the walking man said...

The important thing is that he trusts his underwear to not rebel!!

Bushman said...

Never trust your pants..I mean C'mon they can't even keep your farts a secret!

imtsmom said...

Oh T... I distinctly remember having the "socks and pants" talk with him. Although it was quite a while ago. Maybe he forgot.

And I have nothing to do with his knowledge of blownout crotches. Maybe he learned that in one of those bars where people mingle with cats. Can you believe it?!

Daisy said...

What was he drinking??? Can I get some? :-)

W.C.Camp said...

I'm more than a little concerned ... what brand of wood alcohol was he drinking?? I have my favorite pants too with tattered cuffs and a variety of unintentional air vents. It's a man thing so don't judge us!!! W.C.C.

Lola said...

Great post. Made me smile over the Internet. I found you through BPOTW. -Lola from www.buddhatropolis.com

Paticus said...

I moved to Florida from Chicago(via LA, via NJ) 5 years ago, and the free roaming lizards are actually one of my favorite things about it.