PANTS!

Recently I had to buy pants.

I mean, I had to. Literally every pair of pants I owned were thread bare, holes, cuffs unraveling, buttons popping  off.

My pants were more a collection of tattered threads with delusions of being pants.

I had to buy pants.

I never want to buy pants.

Even when I was a younger, way more thinner Dave-El, I have found shopping for pants to be a be a nightmare in frustration.

I can never find pants in my size.

Even when I was young and skinny, pants could be found in any size that wasn't mine. I was too tall, not tall enough, too skinny, not skinny enough.

It's not any easier now that I'm old and fat.

I'm too tall, not tall enough, too fat, not fat enough.

Being fat is weird. It's like I'm caught in some kind of weird body swap thing.

Although I am in my late fifties, my emotional state still feels rooted in my teens.  My brain still expects to be stuck in a gawky thin body. 

Until I catch myself sideways in a mirror.

Or I try on a new pair of pants.

After dinner on Friday, Andrea and I went shopping to find me some pants.

Good news: Andrea found a pair of jeans in the same size of the very pants I was wearing.

Bad news: the jeans in the same size of the very pants I was wearing did not fit.

Andrea found a pair of jeans in the next size up from the pants I was wearing. They fit. Yay!  

Good news: Andrea found a pair of dress pants in the same size of the new jeans that fit.

Bad news: the pair of dress pants in the same size of the new jeans that fit... did not fit. 

Really?

The jeans I found fit and the dress pants in the exact same size did not fit.  

This is sadly not a new phenomenon for me. Even when I was a kid, pants of one size and type would fit but another pair of pants in the same size but different type would not. 

By the way, this shopping expedition for pants was taking place at Wal-Mart. You can't go into a Wal-Mart without being surrounded by out of shape people. I figured if anywhere would have relatively inexpensive clothes for a lumpy frame like mine, it would be Wal-Mart. 

I figured wrong.  

After about an hour, Andrea and I found exactly 2 pairs of pants in the size that fits.  And only 1 pair that actually fit.   

Well, damn! 

One lesson from this is I should work to get into some kind of better shape. And perhaps I should. 

But I never expect my pants shopping will ever get any easier.