Pants

D and I are going to a party this weekend to celebrate a civil union. The attire will be "smart summer casual," or "no suits" but "not too casual."

D has one suit with pin-striped pants.

He has three pairs of non-jeans that are frayed at the bottom.

And one pair of jeans.

PW said "He could wear his suit pants with a funky shirt and flip flops!"

Ummmm.

D decided that it was time for new pants.

Knowing D, I expected this to be an ordeal - a neverending exercise in particulars. I agreed to meet him at H & M post-work last night at 6:45. We went back and forth for ages trying to agree on a time and place (Macy's? H & M? Gap?) to meet because he didn't bring his phone to work. We decided on H & M on 34th Street because it would be the cheapest and if we found something there, then we wouldn't need to bother with the other more expensive places at all.

I got there early at around 6:40. He'd said something about going inside to look on his own if he got there early, so I went in just to see if he was there. He wasn't, so I went back outside.

The last thing anyone wants to do is to stand on 34th Street, waiting. Two minutes of this will throw anyone into a murderous rage, directed at both tourists and commuters alike.

I stood outside for another five minutes, staring down the Mr. Softee that was on 7th Avenue. I was determined to overcome Softee, but decided that a soft serve cone would really help me survive the waiting process.

While I was eating the ice cream, a woman approached me, nearly drooling, and said "Where did you get that?" I said "Right there..." and pointed to Softee, who was a mere 15 feet from us. I smiled at her. She said nothing and walked away and didn't even stop at the truck. Wtf!? She had super powers. But why ask at all? I have no idea.

I waited until 6:59 and was starting to get cross. Where was he? I had no way to get in touch with him and decided that I would just leave at 7:00, because I think waiting for 15 minutes on 34th Street without the option of cell phone contact is more than enough.

At 7:00 my cell phone rang. It was D, calling from a pay phone.

"Where are you?"

"At H & M."

"Are you here?"

"Yes. Well, wait, where are you? Are you here?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"On the pay phone."

"Yes, but where?"

"Right outside H & M."

"Do you see me?"

"I'm looking for green. Are you wearing green? I thought you were wearing green."

"No, I'm wearing a baby blue hoodie over it, but nevertheless I don't see you. Are you here?"

"Yes, I'm outside."

"Where?"

"On the pay phone! Where are you?"

"Outside! I don't see you!"

"Wait! Are there two H & M's? Are we at the same one?"

"I'm at the one on 34th Street."

"Me too."

"I don't think you're here. Seriously. Do you see me? I've been here for like 20 minutes."

"Me too."

"Well, I don't think you're here."

"I went inside a couple times to look for you."

"Me too. I was looking for you but I didn't see you in there."

"34th and Broadway?"

"Yes... no... wait.... I'm at 34th and 7th."

"Oh."

Oh. So apparently there are two H & M's on 34th Street that are like a block and a half from one another. RIDICULOUS.

So the pants.

He tried on two pairs that didn't quite fit and bought them anyway and that was that.

Amazing.

He kept asking me what I thought and I said things like "They're too short" or "They seem too tight" and he agreed and bought them anyway because he didn't want to shop.

I don't really understand how men's pants are supposed to fit. The things we look for as women don't really apply at all. Men don't seem to have asses while wearing pants and the shape of the leg seems inconsequential. "These ones don't showcase what an awesome ass you have" and "I think you need a looser fit to showcase your shape" but what on earth do I know about men's pants?

We ended up going to Macy's anyway and he bought two more pairs, fashion show with non-non-flattering shirt pending. The lady at Macy's said he needed a "tapered leg" to give him some shape so we had to go to the, ahem, designer section.

We had fun but we were starving to death by the end of it.

I didn't get home until about 9:00 and didn't eat gnocchi with butter/sage/cheese sauce until 9:45. Praise Softee! I think I ate 3x the allowed carbs but whatever. I had to eat that many carbs because SM was supposed to come to dinner tonight and is not, and I had to use the ingredients. I was going to ignore the diet to dine with my rockstar pal who is "just back from australia" and "not touring for june" and breaking plans with old friends because he needs money, which is understandable.

And then we watched DeNiro... er... I mean, Godfather 2, and I fell asleep at 11:00. Wooo!