Why I can’t have nice things. Part 1

I have a curry stain on my jeans. I noticed it this morning as I checked work emails at the office. This would be okay if it were after lunch and I just got done enjoying the crap out of some yellow curry. It would have been excusable if there were a curry squirt gun bandit on the loose, and I were their latest victim. It would be believable if I peed curry and shook just a little too hard. But no. I had curry days ago, proceeded to wear the same pants for several days after, and am just now seeing the bright yellow stain on my jeans. Color me unobservant.

This presents a handful of social quagmires.
One : Someone notices the stain. Asks about it. I have to explain how I had curry last week and just noticed I was wearing part of it. Naturally, they don’t believe it, and I look like a jackass.
Two : Someone notices and doesn’t say anything and assumes the worst. I look like a jackass.
Three : It draws attention to my bathing suit area. Now we’re both jackasses.

The third issue is clearly the biggest (not because my bathing suit area is herculean, sicko). It’s bad because it stops being my problem and becomes everyone’s problem. See, I’m not a huge crotch starer-at-er to begin with, but you better bet your sweet tomatoes a bright spot of yellow will draw my keen hawk eyes from virtually any distance. I’m amazing like that. But more importantly, it will draw the attention of the unsuspecting at close range. And there begins the awkward exchange where you bear witness to someone else glancing/staring/pointing their cameraphone at your crotch. You want to talk about it, perhaps strike up a conversation about how the stain got there, but you also don’t want to breach that topic. Why? Because it directly accuses that person of looking at your crotch. Nobody wants to be that person — He/She-who-cops-look-at-crotch at the office. No one. That’s how nasty nicknames are coined. Names like Peeking Petey, Perv McGee, Crotchgrabber Maximus, or Crevice Topographer ruin friendships and office morale. So, both of you remain silent about the issue until you see your therapist next.

This is why I am currently pantsless, so I may lick the stain off. I’m doing it so you don’t have to be called CrotchEye Pierce. You can thank me later.

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