Ha! Made you look!†
I did laundry Monday night.‡ While folding my favourite pair of jeans, I noticed they were getting a little worn, a little thin, a little fragile. Right at the point of my butt.§ Right where the pocket gets pulled every time it's used.
[SUMMARY: This is the set-up.]
Last night, I went to "see a movie"¶ with Laurie,# and when we parted, I decided to run over to Old Navy and get a back-up pair against the inevitable demise of said favourite jeans.
[SUMMARY: This is the suspense.]
I got home and flicked on the TiVi to see the Grey's Anatomy season finale.
[SUMMARY: This is the lull before the storm.]
I was thinking about my new jeans, thinking about my old jeans... when I decided to feel my butt and find out exactly where that worn spot was.††
[SUMMARY: This is where the music swells.]
There was a hole. All the way down the side of the pocket closest to my ass crack. I wasn't feeling flannel-soft worn denim, I was feeling naked ass.‡‡
[SUMMARY: Crash! Freeze! Close-up!]
I spent a certain amount of time trying to determine if I could feel the air on my naked ass,§§ hanging out there, to figure if the jeans had *just* ripped,¶¶ but I never could make an educated guess.%
Hans swears he would be nice enough to tell me if I had a big ol' ass rip in my jeans.
I maintain he may not have noticed.##
[SUMMARY: My denial is comforting to me.]
So this brings about the age-old philosophical question: If jeans rip in an office and nobody notices, do I still make an ass of myself?
Next week: conducting the all-important Schroedinger's Ass experiment.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): The weekly meeting of the Brainless Twelvehood Club will now come to odor.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I knat all day Sunday and usually I do laundry while I'm knitting so I can pretend I'm doing chores. Apparently, I was too lazy to knit and let the washer run at the same time on Sunday.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): OK, yeah, my butt doesn't really have that many points, but you know what I mean.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): After skipping the movie in favour of happy hour, we have decided that "see a movie" is now code for "cheap drinks."
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Of Suburban Sedation Crew fame. Oh, come on... you remember the Suburban Sedation Crew. How 'bout this? Tommy's Aunt Laurie.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I was in the privacy of my own home. I've done worse in the privacy of my own home.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Thong.
§§FOOTNOTE (dangerous curves!): And got so distracted I had to rewind Grey's Anatomy. Twice.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (cheek to cheek): Probably due to some world-class La-Z-Boy wallowing.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Though I'm sure Cat for Scale was wildly entertained watching me pacing the living room, sitting, standing, waving my butt around, muttering, "Yeah. Yeah, I'd notice that. Wouldn't I? Wait... no. Maybe not. How cold was my office today?"
##FOOTNOTE (two pounds of ass in a one-pound bag): Hans is 6'4". He spends most of his time in front of me. And I wouldn't be at all hurt (*sniff*) if nobody even looked at my ass to notice if it was hanging out of my jeans.