So as I’m there on the can, looking down at the floor, I realize that I’m looking through my pants – and I see the floor. Somehow they split right up the back, adjacent the left pocket.
I’m not at home, no – I’m at a mixer for the Goshen library’s capital campaign… maybe 40 people, plus Civil War re-enactors all chatting away outside.
Tack on no belt, and it turned out to be interesting. I ended up hiking up my pants Hank Hill style then tying a curtain rope around my waist to keep the pants on. Thank God for long shirts. I’m really surprised tho, these are size 38 Arizona boot-cut jeans, and they’re baggy as all hell. Time to go back to Levi’s I think.