Picture this:
It is Easter Sunday, and I have just spent several hours at the spa celebrating the resurrection of Jesus/bunnies/candy (I'm Jewish, so I am entitled to a certain amount of irreverence for the holiday). For me, it was a rebirth of sorts. And by rebirth I mean that my skin was as smooth as a baby's arse.
I am buffed, polished, scrubbed, and moisturized, not to mention a little tipsy from the free champs and mojitos. I am in a zen state of mind while waiting to pay for said buffing & polishing, when I behold a man outside the spa talking on his cell phone and exposing a very full 6 inches of his red thong. Obviously, I am immediately snapped out of my reverie and into my Oh No He Did NOT Just Lift His Arm Thereby Lifting His Ugly Windbreaker and Expose His Revolting Red Thong Under His Extremely Baggy Cargo Shorts mode.
I am nauseated at this little display. First, there is no reason for him to be wearing a thong. But if that's what floats his, um, boat, so be it. Second, there is no excuse for anyone to actually see his underwear, thong or otherwise, for any reason, while he is in public. If you want to hang out of your clothes at home, have at it, but it is crass and rude and all kinds of nasty to expose your underwear in front of others. Third, and guys, listen closely now, BUY PANTS THAT FIT. Not pants that slide down your non-existent behinds and show innocent bystanders your unmentionables. Seriously, if your shirt and shorts combo isn't enough to cover everything, you are wearing the wrong size. Period.
Anyway, you will be relieved to hear that this episode did not ruin my day, it simply destroyed any last shreds of hope I was clinging to that people can actually dress themselves.
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