D'oh!
So I ran into the fundamental problem with button-fly jeans today. When I was walking to the grocery store before coming in to work, I noticed a breeze on my junk. I look down and realize that earlier in the day I forgot to button up all the way, so now I have gappage. At this point, one would normally just stop and close their fly.
But it's not that easy. No sir.
To button up my fly, I would need to undo my belt and the top of my pants. Ain't no way to do that without arousing suspicion at the grocery store, so I'm stuck. I have no choice but to stalk the aisles with my lewdness on display for all to see.
Am I wearing clean underwear? Fuck, I hope so.
The good news is, I wasn't arrested or molested. The bad news is that I forgot all about it when I came to my office. Now I'm sitting here plotting my trip to the bathroom where I can halt this ignominy and once again hide my shame behind denim and metal buttons.
Life is its own punishment.
But it's not that easy. No sir.
To button up my fly, I would need to undo my belt and the top of my pants. Ain't no way to do that without arousing suspicion at the grocery store, so I'm stuck. I have no choice but to stalk the aisles with my lewdness on display for all to see.
Am I wearing clean underwear? Fuck, I hope so.
The good news is, I wasn't arrested or molested. The bad news is that I forgot all about it when I came to my office. Now I'm sitting here plotting my trip to the bathroom where I can halt this ignominy and once again hide my shame behind denim and metal buttons.
Life is its own punishment.