Split Hoofed Animals

I was at a baby shower today. I was sitting down, minding my chips and dip they had out to munch on while I was chatting away with the person next to me, trying to avoid the puffs of bad breath coming out of their mouth while I was dipping my chips. The less than fresh breath is not the point of this post.

Intermittently, I would turn my head while eating the dipped chip, to catch some halitosis-free air. This went on for a while, enough so that I had to switch from sour cream and onion chips being dipped into sour cream onion dip, to regular Lays which held their crisp shape while dipping. I was quite enjoying the snack.

Since I was sitting there, turning my head every now and then, I noticed another of the girls at the shower. She was standing on the other side of the table chatting with someone standing next to me. She was dressed casual, in jeans. That was the problem. The jeans.

Well, it was not the type of jeans or the color or anything like that.

I was dipping and munching by myself at that point, with the one who was stinking up my little area with her breath that could have used a swig or two of Listerine, sitting quietly next to me, with her mouth SHUT.

The jeans had caught my attention. The camel claw was quite evident. With every shifting of weight, every twist of her torso or crossing of her legs. Now, had I not been sitting there, enjoying the Lays, and had she not decided to stand in front of me to talk to the other behind me, I would not have had that middle-eastern moment. Really.

Well the shower was over and I was here tonight, thinking about it, since its like when your sibling's other half decides to tell you about their sex life and gets in a disgusting detail before you can shut them up. It sticks in you mind, most annoyingly.

So I was wondering, what is the point of wearing jeans, to a baby shower, without underwear? What is that all about? Is it necessary? Is it obligatory? Is it comfortable having that denim all caught up in there? Oh, its not caught up in there? Then tell me, the claw or cloven hoof if you will, is a figment of the imagination?

I don't appreciate being put into the position, even if "accidentally", to bear witness to that!

Girls, do me a favor-save it for the men, if you are desperate, save it for your cat night out, but put on the underwear, on a regular basis. I am begging you.