One Leg At A Time

June 12, 2009

It’s not that I hate shopping for clothes. Well, I can think of a few things I’d rather do, like going to a movie or diving off a cliff. What makes me nuts, though, is not being able to find anything that I like. And if I do find something I like it doesn’t fit. I have an unusual body type. There are a few words for it. Short is one of those words. I’m short. How short? Well, let’s just say Napoleon and I would probably see eye-to-eye, right before he had me taken out and shot for asking, "Hey, do you ever take your hand out of your shirt?" Skinny is another word. For some reason tall and skinny go together, but not short and skinny. If I were a woman I’d have my own section of the store called "Petite", but I’m not a woman and, even though that floral print skirt looks nice, it’s just not my style. According to the label inside my shorts I am "small" in English-speaking countries and, in Spanish-speaking countries, I’m "chico". Great. So I’m Chico. Maybe I should find Groucho and Harpo and learn to play the piano. Shopping for shirts is pretty bad because anymore everything comes in three sizes: XL, XXL, and XXXXXL. I refuse to wear anything that makes me look like a deflated hot air balloon. Shopping for pants is the worst, though. Either the waist is too large or the legs or too long. Sometimes the waist is too large AND the legs are too long. This is true: I once found a pair of pants in the store that had a 29-inch inseam and and 54-inch waist. It really made me wonder what kind of store I was shopping at. It’s so bad that I’ve thought maybe I should be shopping in the young boys’ section of the store. Unfortunately there are a few words for grown men who shop in the young boys’ section. "Creepy" is one of those words. Besides, I don’t think I’d find anything I’d like.

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