Thursday, August 12, 2010

stray pants trapped in jeans


Poen and I are going to (try) and paint the town red red wine tonight.

I say 'try' simply because we don't have as much gas in the tank as we used to.

In about a month I'm 30. But might as well make hay while the sun shines, in that Poen is moving to Kenya permanently at the end of August.

But before we go to Piccadilly, to fight crowds and get sloshed.

[Sidenote: two things that I knew would affect me in London.
1) clouds; and
2) crowds.

The latter is fucking ridiculous. This place is a constant throng of human sweat and bodies. I have taught myself to meditate as I bob through the morning and weekend human traffic like a leaf bourne to the wind, and not freak out, panic and stab them with my umbrella]

...I need to know what to do with my underpants.

Fuck.

Yesterday I wore one sock to work. God knows where the other one went, or why I only realised I was wearing one sock three hours later.

Today, I slipped into my jean pant. Where a pair of doondies I failed to notice this morning, found themselves wedged between my leg and the inside of my jeans.

I've been waltzing around the office all morning, with a pair of French knickers scrunched up in my leg. I'm wondering how they didn't slip down and fall out of my trouser at breakfast.

You know, while grabbing a bowl of berries in the communal cafe, and while trying to look intelligent and important, they drop out of my trouser leg onto the floor. In front of 8000 other people.

Thank fuck they were unwittingly trapped, taken hostage by my strident thighs, or some such.

I only noticed this when I booked in for a corporate massage - that's right, my work has one of these, complete with effeminate masseuse - and saw I had a spare pair of doondies stuffed into the leg of my bloody pants.

It must've looked like some weird growth formation.

Anyway, any idea of where I should put these before Poen and I go out and get smashed? I was thinking they would make a nice lacy hat for when it rains, or maybe just stuff them down my jeans again and call myself a ....man.

PS: They're in my pocket right now. Safe or stupid?

6 comments:

Unknown said...

on a positive note: You now have with you a spare pair of nickers, incase of emergency - break glass!! On a boozy night in london town anything is possible. I say: Thank God you have them!

kyknoord said...

Are you absolutely sure they're yours?

Pebbles said...

Yay! I'm not the only one that that happens to! It's actually happened to me twice. The first time I discovered them hanging out the back, a couple of hours later. The second time they neatly dropped out of my trouser leg, luckily in my office. Note to self: Check jeans for doodies!

Nicole B said...

This made me LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!!!

Its happened to me too - how embarrassing for me. I have the kinda luck where they would drop out in front of 8000 people (and i work at Old Mutual - there are defs 8000 people here for them to fall out in front of!).

As previously said, maybe there are a blessing in disguise.
Maybe you meet someone who needs a bandage after falling on broken glass tonight - pull out the doondie bandage!

Have fun! xx

Nicole B said...

(Although, I per se, wouldnt want a doondie bandage, but its london, you never know!)

Peas on Toast said...

Lil - for sure! Except why did I have to be in my office at the time?

kyk - shit. No.

:)

Monki - thank fuck for that! eeeek, I'm not alone! :)

Secret - I like that. A doondie bandage AND a hat. The kicker is an endless item of dressage! :)