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About a year and a half ago, I needed a few pairs of jeans, so I stopped at the local Daffy's to see if they had anything for cheap. And it turns out they did, they had these nifty, if out of style, white button-fly jeans for $9. Never one to pass up a bargain, I plunked down my hard-earned cash and took them home.
Since that time, they had been to many a party. They were there when I was watching the dig. They were there when I was helping my father work on his house. They went with me on my trip to the Midwest. They were on me when I was doing nothing on quite a few weekends. And they were there when I rang in the new year.
The hole that had worn itself into the crotch got a little too big to be tasteful. The final straw was that one of the buttons on the fly ripped most of the way off, hanging on by only a small tatter of cloth. It was time to retire them.
May you Rest in Peace, White Pants. You have served me well.
Since that time, they had been to many a party. They were there when I was watching the dig. They were there when I was helping my father work on his house. They went with me on my trip to the Midwest. They were on me when I was doing nothing on quite a few weekends. And they were there when I rang in the new year.
The hole that had worn itself into the crotch got a little too big to be tasteful. The final straw was that one of the buttons on the fly ripped most of the way off, hanging on by only a small tatter of cloth. It was time to retire them.
May you Rest in Peace, White Pants. You have served me well.
