The case of the navy blue sweatpants

There I was, tearing my room apart, looking for the navy blue sweatpants with the white stripe. So I could go to the gym. Everything else was waiting to be picked up at the laundromat, which was on my agenda after the workout.

I sat down and thought. Suddenly I remembered who had The Pants. Favorite Ex. One of the last times he stayed at my place, there was an unfortunate incident involving cat urine and his favorite pants. He needed something to wear, and I scrounged around for some boy clothes, because sometimes boy clothes turn up. No boy clothes.

Favorite Ex is at least 5'11" and skinny. I am 5'4" and well, not skinny. He decided that the only option would be to borrow a skirt and wear it home. Which he would gladly have worn, and loved it because he's just that kind of nut. Unfortunately, I'm madly in love with all my skirts and unwilling to part with any of them under even the direst of circumstances. I examined the sweatpants collection. The navy blue sweatpants were the only option.

Mom had bought me a ton of new workout clothes, and The Pants were part of that collection. They were also too long, so I had taken the scissors to them the day before. I looked at his calves and giggled the whole way to the subway station that morning.

Before Favorite Ex moved away, I was plotting how I was going to steal his navy blue Calvin Klein T-shirt. Instead of being up one T-shirt, I'm now down one pair of sweats. Damn.