October 30, 2005
I just woke up to find myself in a pair of woman's shorts.
Normally, I'd find that to be an exciting way to start a Sunday morning, wondering how I could find myself in such a situation. However, just as the air from that first crisp autumn morning hits you in the face and makes you realize the dreams of the summer have passed, I had a similar wave of reality when I recognized that just outside of the woman's shorts was a hard canvas couch.
I looked around and found myself in the familiar settings of Ray's friend Scott's apartment. Two blankets were placed over the rest of Ray's body, and, other than being incredibly confused, I suspected everything had gone according to plan. But how in the hell did I end up in women's clothing...especially at Scott's place, which has proven to be akin to the House of Usher to members of the Fairer Sex?
I looked around my living space to see if there was any indication that I'd been used the night before, and I saw nothing. Andy, the twins and I were clean as a whistle.
What could have happened last night to encase me in women's gym shorts?
I started talking to the Other Head, and see if he had any insight into the events of the previous evening. Now, normally, he and I don't often see eye-to-eye on things - it seems we often have two seperate agendas when it comes to women. But, seeing as how I was ensconced in a strange woman's garments miles away from a woman, I was definitely curious. I knew he knew the answer. The trick was getting him to tell the tale.
He was surprisingly gabby, at first. The Other Head told me about the Halloween party the night before in Columbia. Now, if there's one thing Other Head and I agree with is our mutual dislike of Columbia. He gets lost easily there - curved roads, subdivisions, poor signage, stupid street names - and the only girls' Ray's ever dated there were just not it. I remember this one girl who swore up and down that she was really cool, and she showed up on the date wearing - I'm not making this up - a prom dress. Poofy shoulders, ruffles. See, that'd be cool if we were in high school and it was actually a prom, but we were 30 and in Annapolis and eating crabcakes. Not exactly a prom setting. She wasn't wearing it ironically, either. She said she'd never been to Annapolis before and wanted to dress up...*yawn*
Anyway, where was I? Gawd, I'm so easily distracted sometimes. So, I was talking to the Other Head, and he mentioned the Halloween Party, and how we got dressed up. That's when I remembered the pain.
See, Ray and the Other Head got the brilliant idea of dressing up as Ben Stiller's character White Goodman in "Dodgeball." Funny movie - hell, I laughed at it, and am ALWAYS a fan of Mrs. Ben Stiller, Christine Taylor. So, I wasn't mad when Ray suggested the costume idea - wearing the body armour outfits they wore in the Dodgeball tournament itself. Ray carefully constructed the costume using purple Under Armour and used rollerblading pads to simulate the shoulder pads.
It was a good theory...until it came time for the pants.
Ray's about 5'9", and usually weighs 200 pounds. He's a solidly built dude. I spend most of my days looking at his thighs, and they appear to be a rather muscular set. My neighbor in the back, Andy, has two huge yards which seem to garner more attention than they deserve, IMHO. I mean, they're buttcheeks, people. Two huge wads of flesh and muscle that poop comes out the middle of. *I'm* the one who does all the real work, people! *I* should be the star, not some, some ASS...
Anyway, he bought a pair of XL football tights to complete the costume. We had some difficulty getting them over the thighs and rump, but, once on, I was cramped, but comfortable. Ray trotted out the ensemble at the party on Saturday night.
First off - it was a little colder than we expected, and the thin Under Armour simply wasn't enough to keep Ray's upper body warm. The football pants were doing their job for the most part, though the legs were complaining about a lack of warm blood going to the feet. I figure they were just being wimpy.
The party itself was fun. One dude dressed as a mad scientist, and gave Ray a couple of shots of Belvedere vodka. Lots of women seemed enamoured over Andy's turf in the black tights, but I'm sure I caught my share of glances, too. The football pants, while tight, did give me a certain profile, that's for sure.
However, towards the end of the night, I started feeling lousy. It could have been the alcohol, or perhaps it was an overdose of sweet foods at the party (we LOVED Leilani's apple pie), but I started feeling dizzy. The legs - the knees especially - which had been griping for hours, were being joined in the complaints by the stomach, the feet and, soon, even life-of-the-party Andy. What was going on...?
All I remember was wanting to sleep...
And then waking up.
I asked the Other Head if he was hung over - a charge he vigourously denied. I asked other parts of Ray's body what their status was. The knees told me they were shot, and the thighs were in poor shape. The stomach was ready to revolt, but not because of too much alcohol. Surely something was amiss.
It was when I glanced a look at Ray's costume that all things became clear. The Under Armour was an Adult Medium - a little tight, but not too bad. However, the label on the pants stuck out to me like a beacon in a storm. The size said "XL" alright... CHILDREN'S XL!!! Ray had bought and worn clothes that were literally made for somebody 100 pounds lighter!
Excited by the news, I stood up and looked at my friends. I wanted to shout out the news that Ray was bad at shopping, contrary to all that we had held to be true. Ray and the rest of his body had gone back to sleep, but the red dent in Ray's stomach proved to me that my guess was right.
Hopefully Ray won't get the brilliant idea of wearing Underroos next year. I gotta make it thought this life, you know?
The shorts were from our friend Leilani, who apparently took pity on our situation and donated the shorts so Ray wouldn't have to fall asleep in pain. How sweet! Nice pie AND a good heart. What more do you need? A good friend indeed.
In all, no harm done, other than Lefty has a seam mark where his...uh...what...I guess where his hair would be. I got over the lingering soreness, though I'm not sure why Ray'd put me in such a situation. I thought he and I were friends. I'll get over it, though.
Stomach still hates Ray, and Andy...well, that's just Andy being Andy.
Still...Children's XL...what a dick!