Now that we’ve properly dispensed of the winter coats here in Minneapolis, we have opportunity to see what the smartly dressed bus commuters are wearing this season.
Unfortunately, it’s reminiscent of last spring’s fare.
It is April, after all, and with the heady discarding of the winter woolens come the sandaled feet and ghostly limbs of the winter-paroled. Gone are the boots and the down coats, present once again are the Scarface/NASCAR/M&M jackets, the t-shirts proclaiming themselves to be “BUM Equipment”.
We’re a surprisingly pale people after six months of winter, and the sight of so many arms and legs in the thin, erstwhile sunlight of early spring has caused more than one man to walk into a lamp post. The local teenager, imprecisely aware of her effect on the casual observer, strides on, floating ruthlessly above the pavement, leaving many a man open-mouthed and vaguely disturbed in her wake.
But who is wearing shorts, and how they fit, this is not up to us, is it?
I watched as a woman boarded the bus last Friday. She was a good-sized gal, not bad looking, with the hair and nails of a much younger streetwalker. The temperature being in the mid-50s was not going to stop her from wearing this particular pair of shorts.
Oh, but if only it had. In a crimes-against-nature assault against those at the front of the bus in general and the clothing’s seams specifically, it was obvious that all that stood between her and an ambulatory medical exam were the bravest pair of shorts I’d ever seen.
Hang in there, little shorts!
In a move that sent me digging for the notebook I keep in my purse for just such occasions, she plopped down, spilling, fleshly, onto one of the inward-facing seats – but not before tugging a frightened bit of clothing from betwixt her cheeks.
It was the kind of move you make in the privacy of your own home.
Alarmed and amused, I pull my book out, write “I would not care to come back as this woman’s shorts”.
She is not the first rider to confuse public and private places.
But she is the first this season.
Having seen enough, I pointedly stare out the window until my stop; and when I look up, she is gone.
Spring. It’s not for the faint of heart.
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53 comments:
I would suggest sunglasses, the kind they use when welding. Protect them eyeballs!
esb, those dark ones for arc welding?! :-)
In the warmer climes, it is open season on shorts year round. Beer gutted Santas smelling of alcohol wearing the odd jorts with suspenders? We've got 'em.
The New Year's Eve gatherings with the women unaware of their muffin tops and biscuit bottoms sporting industrial strength Daisy Dukes? Sad to say, we are their natural habitat.
Just wait until the tube tops come out!
"Frightened bits of clothing" over mayonnaise-colored flesh is a sure sign of spring here in the north country.
Shorts never left us here in ol' Blighty.
It'scool to freeze yer ass off over here.
Wrapping' up against the cold is for us old dudes!
sometimes I wish we had that time of season to put away the shorts.
On the other hand I do not tire of the scantily clad beauties. And I do not mind walking into a pole now and again!
Ewwww. And here I am almost thankful that we are nowhere near shorts season yet.
"with the hair and nails of a much younger streetwalker" <-- that's when I realized I'd best stop drinking coffee in order to preserve my keyboard. I was right. You paint a vivid scene with your words. :)
There aren't too many negatives to the improving weather with the exception of the shedding of clothing by those that need to wear parkas year round. Very tough on the eyes, for sure.
I don't get out much and I never take the bus but at this time of year I purposely stay away from WallyMart until the cold weather returns. You just never know.
Shorts and sandals are making an appearance up here in the pointy-lands as well, and sometimes it can be very frightening. Although, up here, the winter clothes are never put away, they just get moved to a different part of the closet ;).
You truly are a wordsmith. I enjoy your musings and your observations for the 'not so faint of heart'.
No, I was thinking of the ones they use for arc welding. &^)
Maybe wear the dark flip up welding hood as weLL, of course that might confuse some city folk who might think you were trying to dress up like Darth Vader. If they do happen to ask you that question, just say, "No, I'm the Dark Evader"
I admit to needing the odd "realignment" when strolling down a deserted street or grocery aisle -- but I hope it's not as severe a sight as what you are describing. And I hope there are no strange women holding notepads and pens the next time I do so.
I truly believe that when they look in the mirror, they don't see what we see...... This is why I always ask my boys for their opinion on any wardrobe choice and sadly, on several occasions, I have been sent back to choose again.
In the drug store this morning, where one can buy everything nowadays, I was sucked in by a display. A bin of brightly colored crinkly rayon type tube things. Short tubes, maybe eight to ten inches. They had one displayed as a topless shirt on a lady model sitting in the midst of the tubes. I even sorted around for a minute, before my rational brain said What are you doing. Go get your prescription.
Here too, they let it all hang out.
Is there no decency? tsk
I have gotten to the age where all my "shorts" are "longs" - to the knee or further.
I do sometimes have to wonder whether some folks have a mirror at home. However, on another point, I rather like white women, so I see no problem with "ghostly" legs and whatnot. Just me, maybe, but the insistence of some that pale skin is not desirable leaves me cold.
" ...the hair and nails of a much younger streetwalker."
Your powers of observation are amazing and amusing. Don't you wonder daily what some people are thinking? Or if they have mirrors? Or honest friends?
At my soon to end job at the community college, I have seen some things that defy logic or description. Maybe I should start carrying a little notebook :)
Why are you offended by some clothing between her cheeks? I can only assume it was a scarf, or a bit of her jacket blowing upwards, or perhaps the ruffle of her blouse...Should that kind of adjustment be done in the privacy of her home? Can we not casually brush a scarf away from our face in the wind? If we're adorned in a frilly top, can't we make a quick adjustment while in public, because we're striving to look our best at all times? You folks from Minnesota are quite a prim group.
Cheeks? Frightened bits of clothing? Was she frowning--is that what scared the scraps of clothing?
I don't understand what all the hullaballoo is about...
;) ;) ;)
It was snowing in northeastern MN on Monday. Brrrr!
“I would not care to come back as this woman’s shorts”.
The very first thing that came to mind was the revelation that Prince Charles once wrote to Lady Camilla that he would like to "come back as your bloomers" or words to that effect.
I am not a fan of milky white skin because it often reminds me of cottage cheese in both appearance and texture so I am happy to live in a climate that allows year round tanned legs and arms without benefit of electricity.
But I do envy you your powers of observation.
It's not just the city bus that suffers from this blight. On a recent business trip to LA I saw more butt crack, cleavage, and dimpled flesh than recommended by the American Medical Association. I'm still wearing the eye patch.
This post scared my little dog into the mudroom- I guffaw like projectile vomiting sometimes and this one did it for me! WHEW! I feel so much better!Must share this one on FB! Thank you for making my week!!
I would NEVER wear shorts even the long kind! Raised a lady, you understand!Besides the pasty whiteness is way too much of a shock, except at night as reflectors- that seems to be useful on dark paths lacking moonlight.The larger the better.
i sometimes get annoyed when my husband gives one of my garments the stink eye. then i think about the possibility that he sees something i don't when i look in the mirror. and i change. because i'm smart and don't want to horrify the public with my wardrobe choices.
To TOM G--That was me--I'm sorry!!
There's nothing wrong with the coloring so much (Winter Caucasian) as there is with what Mary and I call "Wanton Realignment". As a native Minnesotan still living in the land of milk and snowbunnies, I regularly return to my in-the-box skin color, although I will now admit to bits of blue added into the mix. :-)
Some girls just don't have real good friends who can say softly and sadly (Glasgow accent here) "Aw no hen. Just. No"
Summer is ending here.
I am happy. I am not in love with a 6 month summer for one thing but also, I too have tired of seeing too much suntanned, wrinkled, freckled, sagging flesh.
I don't even ride a bus !!
thank God for good strong seams.
That hot teenager (I assume) would be called an onion butt by my much older carousing uncle because every time he see one it makes him cry.
I've always had a soft spot for women like that :-)
I live 3 miles from Old Orchard Beach; you ain't seen nothin' til you've seen those Frenchmen in their speedos and their wives bursting out of their bikinis!
My mother's remark upon seeing the first "Revelations of Spring": "If she breaks wind her pants will split". In the "olden days" we used to soak our Levi's and put them on wet so they would dry skin tight! Not me of course!
Daisy's Barbara ... Daisy doesn't need to be concerned about such things!
There's a modest scattering of shorts here in Belfast. And a not so modest display of escaping buttocks around the edges.
Can I yell, "My eyes! My eyes!" (even though I haven't actually yet witnessed this catastrophe) because you painted the picture so well?
Living in L.A., it's sunny all year round so it's easy to get a little tan. But the last 4 years or so I've left the house after the 10-2 tanning time. Which prompted a friend who hadn't seen me in a long time to say, "Wow, you are REALLY white." Apparently that's against the law in L.A.
Definitely NOT for the faint of heart! And, re: surprisingly pale people and ghostly limbs--you should see it around here in the Great Northwest come spring (which never really arrives until July)!
Here we are moving at a trot into the cooler months. This does not stop the young and the nubile from wearing their tiny shorts. They simply wear pantihose and ugh boots with them. An interesting look.
What I love is when a fuller woman wears flesh-colored leggings. Those can be worn throughout the year. You'll find that you can almost hear the fabric weeping as it slowly rips, and you hope you're not around when it does.
I quit wearing shorts in my thirties. If you are even just 10 pounds overweight, shorts are a poor choice.
What a bus ride, Pearl. That's a sight that can haunt one's dreams.
Pearl, thanks for the timely shorts alert, I better start riding the bus, I might miss the springy excitement even if I could end up walking into a lamp post as a direct result of your intervention. I can see there's more to spring than planting bushes and other assorted stuff. ":))
Perhaps her shorts and The Brave Little Toaster could get together and make a feature-length movie?
This made me laugh. Nothing like spring in Minnesota, is there? Oh wait. Yes there is.
Summer in Minnesota.
"..tugging a frightened bit of clothing from betwixt her cheeks".
Those shorts must have been tiny indeed! Mine resemble skirts, they're so large, I prefer modesty and comfort. How can one be comfortable when one must adjust clothing with every step?
Count yourself fortunate, around here what passes for spring wear is year round for the "never should be allowed to purchase that size" crowd.
I'm betting there was Spandex involved.
And prayer? Maybe prayer?
At least on the part of her mother.
You are so darn funny! I'm thinking you need to get a very small digital camera and start memorializing these people photographically.
I came home on Monday afternoon to find my neighbors wearing too small bathing suits on their too large, blindingly white bodies. It was disturbing.
Oh my. I picture VEEEEERY short after your description.
Remembering the bus rides of my youth, window staring out was used as a form of self preservation.
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