I had a fight with my pants yesterday.
I was at work, throwing away things that get shipped with games up to our office that we don’t use/can’t ship back because they don’t have a high enough dollar value. Most of these things have to toss in with my arms WAY up above my head, as dumpsters are highly discriminatory against the short. (See what I did there? Highly? Short? Har har!)
One of the items tossed yesterday was a coin hopper, which is a bucket with various metal mechanisms along the bottom, and a rather long metal arm coming out of the top with coin verification on it. I grabbed it by its long metal arm, and in a show of remarkable stupidity, lifted it above my head, with the bottom part behind me. I leaned back to get the maximum thrust to toss this thing up and into the dumpster, and while the hopper ended up where it was supposed to, something on the bottom also managed to scrape my leg. I didn’t think much of it as I’m pretty much the Queen of Unintentional Self-Injury until I noticed a breeze only hitting one thigh. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I had managed to slice my pants up the back of my thigh. My favorite jeans, no less!
I promptly scuttled back to my office and plopped down in my chair, and refused to move until everyone else was gone. “Melissa, want to come outside and stand in the sunshine with me for a few minutes?” “Oh, not today, I think I’m good here!” “Melissa, do you want to get some lunch with me?” “I’m not hungry today, thanks!”
Luckily for me, they’ve recently opened up a Kohl’s store in my area, so I was able to grab another pair of the exact same jeans, which is not only good because that means I don’t have to try anything on and can be in and out of the store in five minutes, but great because Gloria Vanderbilt jeans do wonderful things for my lower half and I’d be sad to have to try and find another brand/style that does the same things.
Gloria Vanderbilt, you love my rear end. And I love you. Let’s never fight again.