I’m in my favorite store looking for a couple new pairs of pants. It isn’t a typical clothing store because it also sells fishing gear, golf clubs, batteries and a huge selection of lumber and fencing in the back. After strolling around for a while, I find the men’s pants.
I’ve chosen to go with size 34, relaxed fit. There are four pairs to choose from. At a younger age, I might have wanted to try on a pair, but today I just wish to complete my mission and return to normal life.
I make a quick examination of the pants, and two things hit me immediately. The first is the number of pockets per pair of pants. They’re everywhere. There are even itty-bitty pockets inside pockets. I’d have to collect a whole bunch of stuff to even begin filling them up – pocketknives, handkerchiefs and such.
Even more bothersome is this: the pant legs narrow on the way down. These are the kind of pants I’d have to sit down to put on, guiding each foot through the narrow passageway. My calves would feel like stuffed sausages.
I like my old, thread-worn pants. I don’t think I’ll be going to the concert with Sherry tonight.