Friction Down Below

Because Josie called, "bullshit" on me, I'm reposting this.  I wanted nothing to do with it, so I had to reproduce it from memory.  It's a bit beefier this time around.  Pun intended.  I'll get back to the funnier posts soon.  I promise.  Unless, of course, you find my self-loathing funny, in which case, I'd like to dedicate this post to you.

I'm conscious of the swish swish swishing that announces every step I take through the library.  You look up, slightly annoyed that I've broken your concentration.  Embarrassed, I break eye contact and switch to a wider corn-cob-up-the-ass kind of gait.  It's only a matter of time before I rub a whole in the crotch of these jeans too.  I try, for as long as possible, to put off my inevitable trip to Old Navy, worried that this will be the time I discover that I've expanded further than their biggest sizes can contain.  If I'm lucky, I'll be able to buy a couple pairs in colors that I don't particularly like, but that I'm stuck with because they don't bother stocking all the sizes in all the colors.  I'll walk away, like I did on Friday, with a light wash, the likes of which I haven't seen since the early '90s.