Random neuron firing, lame philosophy, literary pontificating, movies, sex, clothes & other femme stuff

Sunday, February 08, 2004

The rise and fall of my pants

We were supposed to go to our friend Sherman's for a small get-together last night. Leigh, as you might imagine, wasn't up for it.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned Sherman, but he's probably my closest male friend. His name's not really Sherman, but that's what I said I'd call him if I wrote about him in this blog. As chair of the English department at a nearby college, he has face to lose, I suppose--or certainly would, if I started telling my favorite Sherman stories. The fact of his being a department chair never ceases to amaze me, an unemployed loser. But then again, my ex's significant other's the philosophy chair at a nearby university. A couple more chairs, as Woody Allen once observed, and we could have a nice dining room set.

Leigh said it was all right if I went, so I did, and had a fabulous time, abstemiousness to the winds. It was the usual handful of S's colleagues & friends. Maria brought pot, so of course I got stoned as well as drunk. I get all touchy and huggy with everyone. It seems the thing at the time, though in retrospect I'm not sure it's universally appreciated. At one point I pulled down my jeans to my knees and showed Maria and Sherman my panties--cut to look exactly like boys' tighty-whities (seams, trompe l'oeil fly) except in cheapo shear pink nylon edged with baby blue. It was sort of a reference to the first time we partied (in speech, that verb flows completely naturally; in writing, it makes me cringe; what's up with that?) with Maria chez Sherm, years ago. Somehow or other we all (except S., of course, who by hook or crook always manages to keep at least pants on) ended up losing our pants to display our underwear and just sitting around pantsless for the rest of that night, like at a girls' pajama party. A professorial, collegial, pinot-noir-and-cheese girls' pajama party. Why does it seem a party's no fun without at least some clothes coming off? Mine, usually. Anyway, I showed off my tighty-pinkies with the fake fly. It seemed the thing at the time.

To celebrate Leigh's upcoming birthday we're gonna have an academy awards party.
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