In the interest of full disclosure – and because I don't really have anyone else to make fun of write about, just now – I feel I should share something that happened this past weekend.
It was a bit brisk outside when I started getting myself together to ride Saturday morning, so I was procrastinating a bit about getting my stuff together. Finally, I'd convinced myself that it really wasn't that cold; and anyway, because the ride starts at 9:30, it always (okay, usually) warmed up nicely by the end of the first 10 miles or so. By the time I'd reached this decision, I was running close on time and dashed around the house preparing energy drink, putting my bike in the car, and finally throwing on the first jersey and shorts I found.
At the parking lot where we meet to ride, I finished the breakfast biscuit I'd picked up along the way and started unloading/assembling my bike. At the last minute, I thought to spray on some sun block and I remember thinking to myself that the elastic leg bands on my shorts seemed tight. Must be the hill training, I thought. My legs are getting bigger. The shorts also seemed just a bit shorter than I remembered. Woo-hoo! I thought. I finally must be getting my growing spurt!
We were about 10 miles into the ride (it had warmed up nicely) when my brain, in shuffle mode, replayed a conversation I'd had with Turtle off and on for a couple weeks.
Turtle: I'm missing a pair of my bike shorts. Do you think they might have gotten mixe in with yours?
Foo: Mmmm-hmm... that sounds fine.
Turtle: Seriously. I think they might be in your closet. Are you listening?
Foo: Huh?
Turtle: Would you check your closet to see if you got a pair of my bike shorts?
Foo: Why on earth would I have your shorts?
Turtle: [sighs]
Foo: Okay, sure. Just let me wrap up this bug fix I'm working on, and I'll go check. But I'm sure I would've noticed if I had any of your shorts.
When we stopped for a break at our usual spot, I dug out my cell phone and called Turtle to tell her I'd found her shorts.
Don't get me wrong. This isn't the first time I've worn women's clothing. There was that time back in the mid '80s when I dressed up as a nun for Hallowe'en (going to hell; got it). I guess what I found just a little amusing is that I almost couldn't tell the difference between a pair of women's shorts and my own.
The senses consume. The mind digests. The blog expels.
Certain individuals keep telling me that I should be a writer (Hi Mom). This is probably as close as I'll ever come to making that happen.
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5 comments:
Okay, now that's freakin' hilarious. Were they black, or, um....flowered?
I credited you on my blog, dude. Ck it out.
The fact that they were pink wasn't a giveaway? ;)
Please tell me you didn't wear her underwear also. Oh wait...you don't wear underwear with bike shorts. Never mind.
At least you didn't stretch them out -- or did you??? LOL
For the record...I can still wear them...but I'm ordering a new pair. It is pretty friggin hilarious! Of course, the sunburn he got as a result of it wasn't.
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