Pants
I went to get a few pairs of pants. I found about 4 or 5 prospective pairs on the racks at the store, and brought them the changing room area. Michelle followed me, and she waited in the open area near the changing room I was in, so she could okay my choices before I bought anything.
I tried the first pair on an thought they fit fine. I opened the changing room door and showed her. She approved. I went in, took of the pants, and threw them over the door to her.
I tried on pair #2. They were okay, but the pockets looked a little weird. I opened the changing room door and showed Michelle. She also felt the pockets looked weird. I went back into the changing room and left those pants on the shelf in there, since I wasn't going to buy them.
I tried on pair #3 and they fit okay and the pockets looked fine. I opened the door, showed Michelle, and got her approval. I went back into the changing room, took them off and tossed them over the door to Michelle, but...
as I did this, a man came into the changing room area and quickly walked passed Michelle, intercepting the pair of pants with his face. Seriously. I heard Michelle say, "Oh, I'm so sorry sir."
The guy seemed good natured about it. Once I was back in my clothes, I opened the changing room door to see Michelle just about rolling on the floor with laughter.
Moral of the story: My pants will ninja kick your ass. Don't mess with Texas.
I tried the first pair on an thought they fit fine. I opened the changing room door and showed her. She approved. I went in, took of the pants, and threw them over the door to her.
I tried on pair #2. They were okay, but the pockets looked a little weird. I opened the changing room door and showed Michelle. She also felt the pockets looked weird. I went back into the changing room and left those pants on the shelf in there, since I wasn't going to buy them.
I tried on pair #3 and they fit okay and the pockets looked fine. I opened the door, showed Michelle, and got her approval. I went back into the changing room, took them off and tossed them over the door to Michelle, but...
as I did this, a man came into the changing room area and quickly walked passed Michelle, intercepting the pair of pants with his face. Seriously. I heard Michelle say, "Oh, I'm so sorry sir."
The guy seemed good natured about it. Once I was back in my clothes, I opened the changing room door to see Michelle just about rolling on the floor with laughter.
Moral of the story: My pants will ninja kick your ass. Don't mess with Texas.
Labels: funny
4 Comments:
The plight of a homebrewer often involves the quest for a new pair of pants. You missed the Oatmeal Stout at my Moms raindance!
The plight of the homebrewer often involves the quest for a new pair of pants. If I have to do one more stupid word verification my pants are coming over to knee bar your little khaki kickers
I have comment moderation on, so I read all the comments before they show up. Sorry I missed all the fun. I had a busy day. And was unable to attend. I meant to call your mom to decline, but I'm very lazy. Sometime between June 30 and July 4, I'm brewing my first AG batch, a double IPA.
I don't throw my pants at guys
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