Embarrassment x2
Not once but twice this week I was incredibly close to exposing myself. Not the most socially acceptable act out there. Here is the story...
First I was at the gym doing squats. For the lazy asses out there, a squat is when you place a weighted barbell on the back of your neck/upper back and bend at the knees, lowering your torso to a 'squatting' position, then reversing the direction to stand up again. So I'm performing a few sets of these, and then I see something in the mirror. Yes, on the descent portion of one of the repetitions of my squats I had managed to split my shorts on the inside upper thigh. The rip didn't go all the way around, but it was sufficient to see my undergarments. And as luck would have it, that was the day I chose to wear decidedly unfashionable white grandpa briefs. Fantastic.
Since the rip was on the inside of the leg, if I walked with my legs pretty close together you couldn't see it. So that is how I walked on out of the gym, and the rest of the way home to change into new shorts. It might have looked funny, but much less funny than the alternative of showing off my tighty-whitey's to the world.
So you would think that would be enough embarrassment for at least a month? Nope, not even enough for that week.
Two days later I'm heading to class and due to too much water-drinking I head to the bathroom to relieve myself. I go to zip up afterwards, and the G.D. zipper gets stuck on the material of my shorts! I try to yank it up, and the sucker won't budge. Luckily, the bathroom was unoccupied at the time, so no one saw me vigorously tugging at my crotch-region. Anyhow, I'm contemplating how I am going to go to class with my zipper all the way down (though this time, I had much more fashionable light-blue boxers on). By this time I'm pretty flustered and frustrated. So I figure I'll give it one Herculean effort to see if the bastard won't come unstuck. I grab the zipper as hard as I can, and give it the hardest yank I can, and...YIPEE! it comes unstuck. Then I look down at my index finger, which had been tightly grasping the metal zipper, and it is now cut and bleeding from pulling on the zipper so hard. Again, fantastic.
Though I quickly decide that going to class with a bloody finger always outweighs going to class with an undone zipper, so I wrap up my digit with some paper towel and stroll off to class.
I tell you, some days!
First I was at the gym doing squats. For the lazy asses out there, a squat is when you place a weighted barbell on the back of your neck/upper back and bend at the knees, lowering your torso to a 'squatting' position, then reversing the direction to stand up again. So I'm performing a few sets of these, and then I see something in the mirror. Yes, on the descent portion of one of the repetitions of my squats I had managed to split my shorts on the inside upper thigh. The rip didn't go all the way around, but it was sufficient to see my undergarments. And as luck would have it, that was the day I chose to wear decidedly unfashionable white grandpa briefs. Fantastic.
Since the rip was on the inside of the leg, if I walked with my legs pretty close together you couldn't see it. So that is how I walked on out of the gym, and the rest of the way home to change into new shorts. It might have looked funny, but much less funny than the alternative of showing off my tighty-whitey's to the world.
So you would think that would be enough embarrassment for at least a month? Nope, not even enough for that week.
Two days later I'm heading to class and due to too much water-drinking I head to the bathroom to relieve myself. I go to zip up afterwards, and the G.D. zipper gets stuck on the material of my shorts! I try to yank it up, and the sucker won't budge. Luckily, the bathroom was unoccupied at the time, so no one saw me vigorously tugging at my crotch-region. Anyhow, I'm contemplating how I am going to go to class with my zipper all the way down (though this time, I had much more fashionable light-blue boxers on). By this time I'm pretty flustered and frustrated. So I figure I'll give it one Herculean effort to see if the bastard won't come unstuck. I grab the zipper as hard as I can, and give it the hardest yank I can, and...YIPEE! it comes unstuck. Then I look down at my index finger, which had been tightly grasping the metal zipper, and it is now cut and bleeding from pulling on the zipper so hard. Again, fantastic.
Though I quickly decide that going to class with a bloody finger always outweighs going to class with an undone zipper, so I wrap up my digit with some paper towel and stroll off to class.
I tell you, some days!
posted by Kwazer at 4:44 PM
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