Where's My Jean Tux, Steve Martin?

So I'm in the middle of this weight loss competition along the lines of the reality TV phenomenon "The Biggest Loser" (yes, I call it a phenomenon because even though people in general are perpetually obese, even they get sick of seeing people being made into feel good stories as they shed weight). As a result of losing about 20 pounds in 2 months, I had to go buy new pants. My weight doesn't fluctuate that much. It usually goes up rather than down, but I'm a pack rat so I usually keep most of my clothes so I hadn't encountered this problem until now. It's sad when you are walking into the mall and the waist of your pants is orbiting around your thighs like a moving hula hoop or a ring of the planet Saturn.

So why not just buy a belt. I dislike belts with a passion. I have enough trouble with the way the elastic band around my underwear constricts my waist and leaves a mark. I reluctantly click it and ticket when I drive because I don't want to be a crash test dummy. Why would I strap some cowhide with a buckle around my waist? I have yet to meet a buckle that feels good. So I hit the Old Navy and struggle to find my size.

I'm probably a 37 / 31 (which may exist, but I've never seen it). Regular, Loose, Extra Loose, Skinny, I feel like I'm at the Denim Dairy Queen, so many choices. They don't make jeans that fit me - slightly chunky with a bit of a beer gut, I'm beginning to sound like a drunk smothered in peanut butter. My waist needs to be measured the way an optometrist customs fits your eyes for contact lenses. I'm somewhat of a complicated fit. A length of 30 shows my inordinate supply of socks I got from the bowling alley with their name (Boston Bowl) and an american flag logo emblazed on the ankle a couple of years ago. A length of 32 will make the bottoms of the jeans puddle fodder. I wear the 30 really low perhaps so a little pube.

The gal in the fitting room is probably between the ages of 16 and 19 (to put it in a historical perspective, people were doing bad Billy Joel "We Didn't Start The Fire" karaoke around the time she was born), not too skinny, not too obtuse. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has had the mall fantasy of playing a little base hit bingo with her or someone like her. Maybe some women may want to explore their own girl power. (Of course I went there, I'm a male, you expect me to) This makes me wonder why someone doesn't make an 'American Pie' like movie about the mall (perhaps because malls lack inherent originality and are populated with moms, their kids and teens - people who tend to consume their environment rather than run amok discovering its subtle nuances and uniquities). You were expecting a great story about me trying on 10 different pairs of pants. I'm not a girl, I was alone, so there was no fanfare in front of a mirror.

How long does it take to wash your hands after you tinkle or poop? 30 seconds? That is if you even wash them. I usually wash them, but after pants shopping I lost my patience in the mall. I had to use the public restroom in the mall. The bathroom was small because I went to the mall that time forgot (it looked like it was built around the time the Minneapolis Metrodome was built). It only had two sinks and there were 4 or 5 people hanging out around the sink by the time I finished my wizz. 2 of them were using the sink, none of them were looking in my direction. They knew I was there, but they probably thought I was unsanitary and would leave after peeing. Usually, I wouldn't care, but you are washing your hands not taking a bath. Sure, I could have hung out with them, but I would've had to relate to these people on a personal level. I can't think of anything I would want to talk to these people about, I'll never ever see them again, what's the point? So I rolled out without anyone noticing me. I may start carrying hand sanitizer on me.

I'm trying to broaden my audience - That was a entertaining blog for women and gays not in the military.