I am most certainly not a fan of the long standing fad in the guy fashion world of letting the pants be so big that the whole world gets a peekaboo at the male's highly interesting boxers. As a matter of fact, I find the whole custom sloppy and crude. However, it is something I had to get used to in the course of my tenure at Crichton; you just learned to not make eye contact and to keep your mouth shut.
It seems that other people did not get this memo.
Shelby and I were in the bank on Monday when a hilarious incident occurred. We were waiting patiently in line with another lady, who was black. We all turned when a young man entered, also black, and whose pants were hanging so low that I was fighting the urge to run over and jerk them down all the way and run away giggling madly. However, I did the typical avert-your-eyes-and-see-nothing maneuver, because that's just what you did.
The lady waiting in line with us did not feel this need. Loudly, she proclaimed, "I just hate it when people do that. What do they think they're doing, walking around with their pants around their ankles? It's just rude. Don't you just want to walk over and tighten their belts?" This was addressed to Shelby and I, who are on the verge of hysterics.
We can't answer, of course, because that might get us shot, so the lady gets her answer in the shaking of our shoulders. She winks and then keeps going with her diatribe. I get the giggles, so I'm trying desperately to not look at her because I know I'll explode if I do.
Seeing my dilemma, the woman says, "I usually stay in the corner at parties."
I managed to choke out, "You shouldn't!"
The guy remained totally oblivious. Thank God for small favors, although he probably would have learned something had he opened his ears. And pulled up his pants.
