a well-worn pair of jeans that i’ve had for years, all of a sudden takes on the ability to completely unzip of its own free will.
see, at the coffee shop, i thought: ok, i’m the guy with his fly open. that role played this morning by: me. thank you, thank you, you’re too kind.
and perhaps i undercut the sheer impact of my performance, but i really did not see the sequel coming so soon on the heels. guy with his fly open at the farmer’s market?! you LIKE me, you really really LIKE me!
i’d like to explore new terrains now, as an artist, so please now enjoy ‘strangely self-conscious man in bookstore’ and i will conclude today’s performance with ‘man walking home with bouquet of flowers checking in on his junk at 50 yard intervals.’
if you want me, i’ll be in my trailer, right?
so get this:
i’m home from this for about a half hour. coffee’s working. gotta go take a leak.
zipper somehow gets more undone than the user’s manual recommends. pull tab is totally wedged into a small opening between stitched parts. an uncanny fit into an unintended place, actually. i’d be impressed with you if you weren’t seriously pissing me off right now.
can not coax zipper out with fingernails. absolutely nothin doin. doff shoes, peel off jeans.
curse blue streak, find alternate pants.
whiskey tango foxtrot