Ho Down

I have a pair of cords (hurrah!). But not just any old pair. They are a cool shade of mint green. When I wear them I feel comfy and slightly like a gay man (not that there's anything wrong with that). Mint green is not a color pulled off by the masses.

The best part - these cords were FREE - a donation courtesy of Katrina (my S-I-L, not the hurricane).

After a particularly rough morning (3 irate hanger uppers and decaf coffee), I decided to head on down to "Sounds like Jim Nortons" for a cup of java (the drink, not the Indonesian island). Being the uber multi-tasker that I am, I dediced to drop off my 5 outstanding library books along the way. [Hey, I said I was a multi-tasker, not a pays-attention-to-due-dates person].

I was 10 steps away from the cross walk when I heard a distint "pop" noise. Not a sound you want to hear at the best of times, unless it involves champagne or your virginity.

Then I remembered the one reason I do not like my cords. The top button (a snap, literally) pops at very inopportune times. Like when I'm walking. Shopping at the grocery store. Sitting in the car/office/dentist chair. Laying down. Actually, that last one is ok. I'd like to think said "popping" is not from the couple of pounds I've added to my hips, but rather, because it's a sin to keep my body under wraps. And the pants know it. Yes, that's it.

*avoids eye contact*

I attempted to ignore the fact my pants had become unhinged. After all, there's the fail safe I'd like to call a zipper, which keeps everything in line. Except, I could feel the zipper start to give way, inching down. Very slowly. And with every zipper tooth, my pants slid slightly farther down my hips.

Not one to panic, I cleverly used my overdue library books to cover up the evidence, holding them stragetically in front of my crotch. Tightly. I increased my walking pace, hoping to reach the safety of the drop-off box inside the library entrance before my pants became leg warmers. Luckily the drop-off box has a piller nearby, so I could put myself back together without too much attention. (Mr. Security Guard, I saw you checking me out BTW. You too, homeless guy).

Happy to have my pants back up where they belonged, I skipped merrily along to "Sounds Like Jim Nortons" for my coffee (now upgraded to a Large single single).

Unfortunately, I can add "skipping" to the list of things not to do when wearing my cords. Luckily, I'd orded that Large coffee.