I have become lazy when it comes to blogging. It's a shame, I know. It happens so infrequently now that every time I decide to blog about something, I can't remember what my password is because I've changed it so much because I can never remember what it is. But I guessed right on the second try this time around, so life is pretty good.
Anyway, I had an experience the other day that inspired this entry. And like most things I blog about, this was quite unpleasant for me. And for you readers, quite comical. And like most things that happen in life, it was in an airport. I've learned that I quite dislike airports. Or maybe it's just airport security. But I opened my duffel bag yesterday to wash the clothes I wore on a recent trip, and I smelled the airport and almost gagged. So yeah, I think I dislike airports.
I had a two and a half hour layover in San Francisco, and a two and a half hour flight ahead of me, so I decided to go into one of those miniature convenient stores in the airport called "Pigglies" or something like that. They have gossip magazines, soft drinks, cookies, candy, chips, books, and middle-age men who enjoy mooning people. So altogether, things that are detrimental to your health (minus the books.) Oh, you're surprised at the last item on my list? Yeah, I was too. But I don't think you're supposed to try and purchase that... So I grab some pecan cookies that say they're the perfect quick breakfast (they weren't) and a Dr.Pepper that's supposed to give you a small energy boost (it didn't)) and a Tina Fey book that was supposed to be hilarious (it was.) There are two registers open, and one attendee behind each register. One register had a million and one individuals lined up to purchase their goodies, and the other had a grand total of one person. I thought I scored big! What I didn't know was that the one person in that one line is someone I will never forget in my entire life. And I didn't even see his face.
I get in line, excited to read this book everybody has been raving about, and satisfy my hunger. It seemed like forever that I was standing in line, so I was starting to get a wee bit impatient (because I had to pee.) The next thing I know, Mr. Moon bends over to put his gossip magazines in his bag. Oh dear goodness, that was the wrong time to look down. What I saw was a part of his body I was never intended to view, something I had no desire of ever witnessing. I swear, his pants had to be halfway down his entire butt! How do you not know you're mooning the world when that happens? When I can feel that a little bit of my lower back is showing, I pull my shirt down because I'm paranoid that I might be showing my patootie off to the world. I'm pretty sure I've never just let it hang out for anyone to see. So anyway, I look away because I'm embarrassed for this fool, and I'm also pretty grossed out. It feels like forever that he's down there bent over, when I see him out of my peripheral standing up again. I believe I have the best timing in the world, because just as I looked back, he bent right over again. I hated everything in that moment. I think I said something in my head to the effect of "Oh my GOSH" (in an extremely disgusted way) and it came out of my mouth. You have inside words, and outside words. That time, my inside words came out. I don't think he heard me, but I wish he had. He should be aware that nobody wants to see his aged caboose. Whatever. I didn't want to be the one to tap him on the shoulder and say "Excuse me sir, but your arse is hanging out of your faded Dad jeans. Please make yourself publicly decent."
So this blog is dedicated to that dear fellow, and those out there who are not aware their rump is exposed to the world. Those who don't feel the breeze, and those who clearly go commando. Please, for the love of all that is blinding, PULL UP YOUR PANTS! Nobody wants to see that nast.
*No pictures will be provided considering the explicit nature of this blog.
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