So I am back now from my first successful vendor fair of the season. And I made money and new exciting contacts too. But here’s the thing … the jeans that I so loved back in 2004. The ones I tried on last and walked out my apartment wearing ….
By the time I first walked into the hospital and put my basket of art down, I knew I had a big problem.
THEY WERE TOO BIG!!!!!!
What was that????
PEOPLE. ATTENTION!!!! MY JEANS THAT I HAD BEEN SAVING TO WEAR AGAIN SINCE 2004 ARE TOO BIG FOR MY BODY!!!!
I had three (3) hours to go wearing said too big of britches on.
And I had to make one more trip out to my Focus. And back. And I had nothing to put in front of my now too big of pants …. and I could not CONTROL the zipper that kept unzipping either.
Normally I would have been pissed to be thrown back in to the spot they put me in but once I realized and felt my britches falling with every move that I had made, I was relieved to be back in the dungeon part of the hospital trapped with the purse lady and the Mary Kay woman.
The few times I did manage to stand and walk out of the conference room I was in to check out the other vendors, I just pulled down my already too big of a shirt to attempt to cover my free-loading zipper for all to see …. At one point, I just said “to hell with it” and walked with the jeans past my hips… breeze and all came with it.
1930 rolled around and it was time for me to pack up my artsy wares … I told the Mary Kay woman and the purse lady to wish me luck as I was only going to make one trip out and prayed to whatever Gods there were that my pants would stay up … I got chuckles behind me!
I made it to my car — and the only time I will say this — thank the Lord it was pitch black out too. I got to my trunk and my pants did a spread eagle on me.
Unsnapped, unzipped and wayyyy past my hips they were.
And there I was…. having to pee like the dickens… pants barely hanging on and my hands full trying to pry open my trunk. In. The. Dark.
I drove home that way too. Why bother pulling them up. And I prayed all the way home that I wouldn’t hit a deer or crash knowing then…I’d have to get out of my car, most likely, pantless, waving down traffic.
Lesson learned: I need a much smaller size in jeans than the 22’s I was hanging on to.