Post park I had the apartment to myself and was lounging on the couch sans culottes, airing out these char-grilled gams in front of a particularly epic Law & Order SVU marathon, when my roommate and three of her cousins – two male! – unexpectedly walked through the front door. I yelped “I’m not wearing any pants!” and scrambled for something to cover my ass, then spent the next five minutes making small talk with a bunch of strangers while wearing nothing but my skivvies and a strategically draped blanket. This sounds like the kind of activity Cosmo Magazine might suggest in an article about spicing up your TV time or making your home sexually appealing for visitors but I’m going to go ahead and say this was not so much erotic as wildly, excruciatingly uncomfortable.
What can we learn from this latest embarrassment? You must ALWAYS wear at least 17 layers of sunblock every time you leave the house, especially if you’re planning on laying about roasting yourself and, perhaps more importantly, you should have a pair of pants or shorts or company appropriate bottoms within arms reach at all times. I’m not advocating you always wear pants, I mean, let’s be honest, pants are the worst, but you just might want to be prepared for unanticipated drop by visitors. Just do it. Trust me.
Summer 2012 is off to an auspicious start!