Wednesday, January 10, 2007

The two-foot rip

Has this ever happened to you?

I was heading home yesterday, walking down into the subway like the best lookin' guy in the world. I was standing on the platform, waiting for the B, D, F, or V - didn't matter which one. I reached back to check my wallet, and I realized that my pants were ripped. Not just any little rip, either. My pants were ripped from my waist to the back of my knee. I grabbed underpant.

So there I am on the D train, my ass hanging out as the wind whistles through the two-foot-long flap that's formed on my right leg. I never knew what those signs on the subway meant. The ones that say "What if YOU'RE the guy whose ass is hanging out on the D train?"

I pulled my jacket down, but it really didn't cover the last 18" of slash. I had to take my fleece off and tie it around my waist, so that only the last couple of inches showed on the back of my knee.

Everyone was avoiding me. I looked like a nutcake, running around with half a pair of pants. Then I started to wonder when it had happened. I didn't have a problem at lunchtime, I'm pretty sure. No one at work said anything, and they all claim not to have noticed. Did I walk too close to a sawblade? Did I cut one? Was this some side effect of the natural gas attack on Monday? Did someone try to steal my wallet? This has been a week full of wonder and mystery.


Jon said...

That was imagery that I could have lived my entire life, and some of Peter's, without.

Anonymous said...

Josh is leaving out part of the story. Earlier in the day a kindly elderly gentleman with an accent and an ascot offered to buy him a ham sandwich and a bowl of soup. Josh can only remember getting about half way through the minestrone before waking up on the subway platform with the ass ripped out of his pants.