i don't care, i'll go bare.

You know that embarrassing story that everyone seems to have experienced except for you? The one they have probably made three separate Arthur episodes about? Today, I hopped the fence onto the side where that big group of everyone but you resides.

This morning I just so happened to be home. After collecting a box of half-eaten cold cereal, assorted canned fruits, and cleaning supplies to sneak back to the dorm laters, I made a trip to the local WalMart. Though they did not have what I went for, I trekked around the entire perimeter and wound up with a carton of strawberries and a cucumber (this could be pertinent information, but most likely is not). Normally I would take the self-checkout lane where I would have to neither see nor speak to another living, breathing human being-- I may or may not have a secret lady-crush on the soothing voice that says "Please scan your first item" (that most definitely is not pertinent information). However, I obviously need a professional to punch in the fancy code for my cucumber, so I sally on over to the real line where the tobacco-users and mothers with 800 dollars worth of food for their families of 18 like to chill. We're all homeboys.

So I'm waiting in line with half the store's customers in front of me and the other half behind, minus the few losers over in the fast-lane. Just remember that there are droves of people looking at the back of my head...and stuff. After wishing the cashier a pleasant afternoon and whistling my way back to my car, I feel in my pockets for my keys. It is then that I realize something is wrong with my backside; specifically there is a hole the size of Las Vegas, Nevada where the pocket should be. That's probably what was up with the mysterious ripping noise as I got in the car when I left my house.

I could have been mortified. However, I just laughed at myself all the way home. Today, I am grateful that everyone I know is off at college or doing something cooler than hanging out at Wally World. Today, droves of the super-center's patrons are grateful that I wore my stripy skivvies.

(Too Much Image)