Where the Hell Was I? blog: Original humor & comedy articles daily weblog

April 06, 2007

The Near-Perfect Pants

Ooh, how the baseball bits are flying! For the Braves' fans among you, I can offer two more Opening Week tidbits over at Bugs & Cranks:

Brian McCann for McMVP -- A little early-season hyperbole never hurt anybody, right?

and(!):

TiVo Takeaways: Prelude to a Rally -- A close look at the turning point that sealed the Braves' series sweep of the Phillies on Thursday night.

Now, on to other pressing and important matters. Namely, the current state of my pants.

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My wife, sweet and wonderful woman that she is, bought me a new pair of blue jeans over the weekend. Today, I slipped them on and took them to the office for a test drive. Overall, I was impressed. The fit is nice -- snug, but not too snug. The pockets are deep and roomy. And the pants are faded and soft, just the way I like them. All in all, I'd say these jeans are just about perfect.

Except.

"Whereever I put the zipper, that's where it remains until I adjust it again. Down, boy. Stay. Play dead. Now jump up! Gooooood zipper."

Now, I don't mean to nitpick. These really are fantastic pants. I've been wearing them all day, and they're really quite comfortable. I might even wear them to bed tonight; it almost feels like I'm not wearing any pants at all. Only not in a creepy way. Honest.

There's just this one thing. About the pants.

It involves the zipper.

Luckily, it's not one of those things where the zipper falls down on its own. Or zips up on its own -- which is less common, but significantly more dangerous. But that's not a problem with these pants. Whereever I put the zipper, that's where it remains until I adjust it again. Down, boy. Stay. Play dead. Now jump up! Gooooood zipper.

The problem with these pants is the zipper itself -- specifically, the tab by which I gingerly yank it up and down. Because the tab -- that little flat metal bar used as a zipper handle?

It's mo-frigging HUGE.

Seriously, it's at least three times the size of the zipper tab on any other pair of jeans I've worn. I'm starting to think these are training pants of some kind, like 'Baby's First Zipper', meant to get someone used to the concept of zippering. Because it's just not natural. It feels like I'm walking around with a big metal ruler hanging from my crotch.

(As opposed to -- no. No, even I'm not going there. You people make your own crotch ruler jokes. I can't do all the work.)

On the plus side, I'll never have to worry that my fly is open. I'm pretty sure that if I walked around with my zipper down in these pants, the tab would scrape on the floor and shoot sparks three feet in front of me. I can barely operate the thing with one hand; I'm seriously thinking of having some sort of pneumatic rig installed in the lining of the denim to hoist the tab up and down on command. I honestly think that would be easier -- and the extra bulge up front with all that equipment can't hurt, either.

A little of that, and we'll be making crotch yardstick jokes around here. Maybe these are the perfect pants, after all. Thanks, honey!

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Categories: Grooming Gaffes , Just Life , Married and a Moron

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Posted by Charlie on April 06, 2007 | Email Me