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March 10, 2008

It fools me every time

I have a pair of dress pants from Banana Republic that I wear to work on a fairly regular basis. A few weeks ago, as I squatted down to pick something up, I heard a terrible ripping noise.  Since I was in a public area without a bathroom in sight, there was little I could do. I did manage to find a semi-private little corner where I, in an oh-so-non-chalant way, felt the seam of my pants to determine just how bad it was. When I didn't find any huge, gaping hole, I was confused, but relieved.

"The hole must not be that big," I thought.

A few minutes later, I managed to escape into the ladies room. Now I was free to inspect my pants thoroughly, but again, found no gaping hole. I was very perplexed, but quite certain I wasn't hallucinating when I heard the unmistakable blend of cloth ripping and the potential of a lifetime being "that girl who split her pants in front of everyone."

I finally realized that my pants hadn't split, but the lining of the pants had a giant hole in them.  This was a big victory for me, because I really like these pants and wanted to continue wearing them. One unanticipated problem: the lining continues to rip. I sat down a few minutes ago - within earshot of several colleagues - and again the terrible ripping noise.  I immediately went into panic mode, only to realize, "oh yeah - it's those pants."

Apparently it's time for me to visit a tailor.

Comments

That is the funniest thing I've heard in awhile!! I love reading your blog on Monday - always brightens my day!! LOL. Yes, I am the friend that uses too many!!!. :)

Sometimes when I need a good laugh on a Monday - I return to this blog post. Always brightens my day.

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Welcome to S&A

  • This is the personal web site of Sarah McAuley. After a few years in SF and NY, I have returned to Boston, Jamaica Plain specifically, to continue my career as a marketing wench. I recently (Dec. 07) switched industries, leaving telecom for the exciting world of clean tech. I no longer commute to an office park 75 minutes away, which has helped my mood considerably. I hate pesto and I love to read. I think sharing my life with strangers is odd and narcissistic, which of course is why I'm addicted to it and have been doing it for several years now. Need more? You can read the "About Me" section, drop me an email, or you know, just read the drivel that I pour out here.

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