Guess What I'm Wearing?

[thisnewday]

No, no, no, nothing like that, lol, let's try to keep it clean here. It's actually my brand new, short-sleeved, Mossy Oak tee shirt. Yup, so new that I didn't even wash it before I put it on. That way it's like, well, that first time you slllide behind the steering wheel of a brand new car.

I mean, let's say you're at the dealership and the salesperson rolls your new Corvette out from the shop where it's just been prepped and--OK, I've never owned a 'Vette, but work with me on this--and you drop into the driver's seat, the young woman who sold it to you expectantly watching, and suddenly, there it is, l'odeur de Corvette. And then...

To the horror and utter amazement of the gaggle of onlookers gathered to witness this once-in-a-lifetime event, you start screaming,

"No! No! No! This is awful! Take it back! Take it back and hang one of those obnoxious green Christmas trees (which the Good ol' Boys at the dealership in Houston used to call "smellers') inside of it overnight, and I'll come back for it tomorrow!"

Clearly, no sane person would do that. Because it's part of the sensory experience we associate with taking ownership of something brand new. You know, with premium leather seats that no obnoxious little niece, nephew, or grandchild has yet farted into.

(Which, of course, I'd have no personal knowledge of, just happen to know people who've had it happen. In which case, knowing car dealerships and car culture as I do, it would be MUCH more acceptable to yell something at the offending party like, "You little b*st*rd! Did you really just FART on my brand-new car seat?" I can personally guarantee that there'd be nods of approval, gestures of sympathy, all around.)

Anyway, it's the same thing with a new tee shirt. Except that, hopefully, you're able to afford more than one over the course of a lifetime.

Like after a growth spurt, for instance. Even though it's fun, in your early teens, to get up one day, pull on one of your white cotton tees, and rip it straight down the back with an unconscious flexing of the latissimus dorsi. You believe me, right? It could happen. (Judy Tenuta voice)

Unfortunately, at this stage of my life, I'm much more likely to rip out the worn seat of a favorite pair of pants with a careless flexing of the well-padded gluteus maximus, but you get the point.

I did get a laugh, though, out of a young woman working in the men's department of the local Target, when I pointed to the row of ripped upper torsos above the tee shirt display and asked, "If I buy one of those shirts, will it make my chest look like that again."

Then she spoiled it all by pointedly giving my slight frame an appraising second glance and saying something like, "As if...," not quite under her breath, as she turned away.

The point is, you get to this stage of your life and you've gotta savor every last bit of every experience.

And if that means risking an allergic outbreak from the chemicals used in manufacturing my Mossy Oak tee shirt, then so be it.

Because, you know, I'm that guy who lives on the edge...

LPK
Dreamwidth
4.29.2018

Comments

[mallorys_camera]

Love this on general principles. :-)

[thisnewday]

Thank you, thank you, as a man of few principles I appreciate that...

[rosegardenfae]

Ewww...take that thing off right now lol

[thisnewday]

Hahaha, I would but I suspect that nobody would like what they'd see, lol...

[bluecatartist]

Hope the shirt didn't cause a rash, and thanks for the amusing account. The new car analogy I understand.

[thisnewday]

LOL, in the interest of full disclosure, I actually wore it over my "it's-still-winter-around-this freakin-place" base layer. But had the temps been warmer, oh yeah, right next to the skin. Because I'm, you know, THAT kind of crazy...