A Day Without Pants

By Erin Nichols
A car honked as it passed me and I waved at the driver cheerfully. I wondered if I knew the person, but it was only a passing thought. It must have been about mid-day and I was walking down the sidewalk near a busy downtown shopping district. The sun was out full blast this day and I was in fairly high spirits. It was a perfectly stereotypical nice day. There were even birds singing. I smiled at people I passed, not paying any attention to how they gave me a wide berth or simply stared back with stupid expressions. People are just like that, nowadays. Be friendly to a stranger and they just think you must be some lunatic or pervert. I wasn’t gonna let that get me down. It was just too nice a day, warm and with a slight breeze. Come to think, I was getting rather cold. And then I realized that I wasn’t wearing any pants.
I did the only rational thing at the time and dove into the nearest bush. Unfortunately, it was a rosebush and the thorns were only too happy to tear into my bare legs. I quietly told myself to man up and deal with it. There were more pressing matters to attend to. The day was not so nice now. It was cold and I was bleeding. I took in my situation and summed it up thusly: I was downtown. My house was on the other side of the city. I had no pants on, and I didn’t have any cash. (Could be that I left my wallet in my pants pocket.) Solution: Run home and get some pants. Also, thank Yahweh for underwear.
“ROAR!” I shouted in dinosaur to voice my agitation and then jumped out of the bush. I’m afraid I must have frightened the poor woman who was walking her Yorkshire terrier nearby, but I didn’t have time to apologize. I fell into an easy run, thankful for those years running cross country and yet feeling that today had to be the worst day to wear tighty-whities. I weaved around some distressed pedestrians and then decided to stick to allies while I still could. One more positive thing about running in your underwear: the hobos...