So, that’s the kind of week it’s going to be, eh?
(Insert obligatory Garfield reference)
Coulda been worse. Mr. Happy could have also been taking in the surroundings too …
With me, it’s always noticing that my shirt is on inside-out.
I give you prince Henrik of Denmark at the resent royal New Year reception.
The other day, my wife was giving a presentation with a very strait laced, unapproachable sort of guy. She called me during a break, whispering, “Should I tell him that he has toilet paper sticking out of the back of this pants?”
Well, this isn’t really as embarassing, but it was only around 11am yesterday that I realized I’d worn my blue jeans to work on a Monday. (I generally leave these for casual Friday, though the business casual dress code has relaxed slightly around the office over the past few months, and nobody else commented.)
I think we’ve all found ourselves at work with odd socks on. I’ve had odd shoes, on two occasions. Once, I had one brown shoe and one black shoe. Another time, a straight toe black shoe paired with a curved toe black shoe. I now make it a point to double check my shoes before leaving the house.
Ah, that’s nothing. Just recently I was acting in a play, and for the entire first act my zipper was open. Oddly enough, I think I was the only one to notice it. Wait, that sounds bad.
Once, when I was in college, I got all the way through the first class of the day before noticing I’d come to class in my pajamas.
I shudder to think how many times I didn’t notice.
Not too long ago, I found myself walking out to a parking lot behind a lady with a huge noticeable gap in the back of her waistband. I found myself staring, mesmerized by the sway of her bountiful booty, over-stretched granny panties and what must surely have been an annoyingly cold breeze going into that purse-sized gap in the back of her jeans. I mean, didn’t her mother teach her how to dress correctly? Ever heard of a belt?
As I buckled myself into my seat, my hand brushed my wide-open zipper on my own pants. Apparently, my momma didn’t teach me either. :smack:
Walked through a job interview with my fly down. :eek:
Still got an offer from the company. :dubious:
Once, I had driven back to my hometown and swung by my brothers house that evening. I drove a really junky looking car. In a reliability and usefulness sense it was anything but that. But it did LOOK pretty bad. He had some clients coming over for a meeting and to sign some papers. He felt that a relative hanging around and junky car in the driveway would not make a good impression. I readily agreed and left for a bit. When I got back after the meeting was over and they were gone, he comes out, with his fly very wide open and very obviously wide open. I about died laughing. Him, not so much.
While getting my car out of my garage, I waved hello to a dumpster browser who waved a friendly hello first to me. He strolled past, took a look in a nearby dumpster and moved on.
He was wearing a pair of those super baggy pants that are ghetto chic. People always complain about asses hanging out of those things.
But this guy’s ass was really hanging out of his pants. He could’ve taken a dump and not left a stain on them.
Hm, that visual image may be worse than what I actually saw.
A couple of years ago, me and my boyfriend were looking for someone to look after our dog, while on holidays. A guy came, wearing sweat pants. At one point, my eyes graze over his crotch area and I notice…something.
I try real hard not to look but I can’t help glancing again and again because it is so surreal!
That guy’s cockhead was having a fine time outside, coming out from a hole in the fabric of his pants.
I remember thinking “wait, why doesn’t he adjust himself? doesn’t it hurt?? doesn’t it realize the tip of his penis is hanging out?? is it because we’re gay that he let it out??”
A few moments after he did take it inside, without batting an eye.
You think that’s bad, I once showed up to class naked.
Wait, I think that was a dream . . .
That’s what you think.
The good news is, the week can only get better from there, right?
This was great OP title next to the other thread:
What happened to my banana?
I once came to work with my PANTS on backwards. Granted, they were those elastic-waisted Chico’s things, but good lord!