I’VE BUSTED MY PANTS

It has happened too many of us I’ve been told. Has this happened to you? You’re down on your luck and can't afford a new pair of pants. Not to fear you went to a fashion school and as luck would have it you’re a big mo and think you can sew your own pants. Well let me tell you, you are wrong! Here’s how I know. I recently found myself in this situation and I did really think that there would be no problem in reaching my end goal of having clothes for work. I’m sitting around on my day off and feeling sorry for myself and angry that my style is suffering because my bank account was as well. Problem solver that I am saw nothing to worry about. My roommate was an accomplished seamstress and it seemed like a simple matter of stitching two pieces of fabric together in a very short line just enough to make the waist a little smaller and look more professional for the work place. Being broke does have some advantages after all; and if it’s a dieting plan that it has to offer I’ll take it.

All seems to be adding up nicely, right? Yet another limitation to my gay powers overcome as it may seem. Or in this case not seam. I was feeling quite proud of myself. The pants were a slimmer and looked pretty good. Yeah, the pockets were a little close together. But if someone was looking that close at my pockets they really weren’t looking at the pockets in the first place. I went through a few weeks of wearing them on and off and all was great; I even went back to not wearing underwear beneath the pants. it just gets to hot,. I'm telling you! Trust me you should try the eau natural in your pant life style. The first time I did this agai with this pair was the day of a department wide meeting for which I got up earlier than usual and in a rush. Thinking all was well and nothing to be worried about I prepared in a rush and selected clothes that I thought were acceptable for the occasion. This is a moment I will remember specifically as proof that I am not psychic. At the end of my day an hour and a half to go I’m working on a display to feature product that wasn’t selling very well, when I drop the sign on the floor. Not realizing that there is something to be concerned with I absent mindedly bend over to pick it up and hear the unmistakable popping sound of a seam splitting.

At this point I have a heart attack! I can’t go and buy something to wear. I’m battling with creditors and my bank seems too feel that my account is over drawn. So the idea of new clothing is right out. Even a pair of underwear where I work would set me back $30. And that is unreasonable, and obviously money that I will need to buy liquor to get over this em-bare-ass-ment of the day. My hands instantly go to my ass. Maybe it’s not as bad as I think it is?!? I feel cheek. Oh my god I’m a manager here and I’m exposing myself. Could this be considered sexual harassment? Being a problems solver I feel where my jacket hits on my backside and think, as long as I don’t bend over or move too much there might be nothing wrong. It was a particularly drafty day that day and I realize that this will not be an option. I un-tuck my shirt ant relate to the person that I am having a small problem. Once they have stopped laughing at me I’m told I should go home. Not being one to give up I think “I can just walk around like I have a stick up my ass” I did it for 24, what’s another hour. I tell the group that I’m working with that I have something to do then will leave for the day. As I walk away I hear giggling and an “Oh honey” to which I smile and wave as if there is nothing wrong. Word to the wise, you never know when the chips will come down in life or your in your pants, don’t be caught unprepared.