August 10, 2006

The Private Distress of the Chronically Bothered

You ever see someone with their clothes adrift in some way--a button loose, a hem turned up, a pant leg in a sock--and it's all you can do to not fix it?

I don't know when this started with me. I suppose it was when we got so many kids in the house, necessitating near constant attention to insure that various pants are zipped, shirts are on right-side-out, and skirts are not stuffed into unmentionables. Oftimes it's just easier to reach over and fix that flipped up collar, even if the kid in question doesn't like me doing it.

Anyway, that nervous fidgetiness regarding someone else's appearance sometimes hits at bad times, such as just now, as I stood in line at Sneaky Pete's for lunch, and there was a hefty lass in front of me, and I could tell that her right bra strap was twisted. I was in one of those wandering-mind mindsets, and for an all-too-long split second, I considered reaching up there to fix it for her.

Luckily, I caught myself before embarrassing myself. And lest you think this was some veiled attempt at groping a good-looking female, I must be frank and say that although I do not automatically disdain women of a certain avoirdupois, once it becomes obvious that they outweigh me, the desire level drops off precipitously. And by my reckoning, this young lady made about 1.7 of me.

It was just that darned bra strap--WRONG! "Can't she FEEL that? Doesn't that drive her INSANE?" Apparently not. Or, at least not as much as it does some people.

I am reminded of an old story told by the late Grady Nutt. Obviously, this retelling leaves something to be desired, since storytelling requires an element of hearing and seeing, but I think it's funny so I'll put it here anyway.

Grady said he was sitting in church and it came time to stand up and sing the invitation hymn. As everyone stood, he noticed a kind sister in front of him, of considerable girth, whose dress had become lodged up between the valley that marks the joining of her left and her right leg. He decided to be of help to the unsuspecting woman, and so he reached out and gently tugged her dress out of its resting place.

He said the next thing he knew, that big gal swung around and caught him in the head with a hymnal. After recovering, he took the open cover of his own songbook and reached back over the pew, and shoved her dress back up into her cleft. Whirling around again in a rage, the angry woman walloped him again and asked just exactly what he thought he was doing. "Well, you got so mad when I pulled your dress out of there, I thought you must have wanted it to stay up in there!"

Posted by Terry Oglesby at August 10, 2006 01:50 PM

Well, be careful if you run across someone in one of these:

Posted by: steevil (Dr Weevil's bro Steve) at August 10, 2006 02:02 PM

I would have to be more careful of this version.

Posted by: Terry Oglesby at August 10, 2006 02:10 PM

One of the reasons I sit in the very front of the church is so I won't be distracted by things like this. I'm especially tempted by the loose hair that's been shed and is laying there with one end raised up just enough that I might be able to grab it and dispose of it beneath the pew without the person it's on noticing that I've just violated their air space. Key word: might.

So instead, I notice things like the preacher has one sideburn that's longer than the other, or that the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt just peeking out of his suit jacket are unbuttoned, or that he's obviously reached into his jacket pocket because the little flap is half-in, half-out.

And don't get me started about clothing tags that are flipped the wrong way. Or those little hanging strap doohickies that some dresses have.

Posted by: LittleA at August 10, 2006 04:02 PM

Those little clear stretchy plastic straps!? GAHHH!! That bothers the fire out of me!

And this from the man who walked all over his workplace with the seat of his pants ripped out...

Posted by: Terry Oglesby at August 10, 2006 04:09 PM