Tuesday, September 19, 2006

The newest generation of appetite suppression

So the family and I always go out to dinner on Friday nights, it's our thing (because, really, who wants to cook and do dishes on a Friday? Granted, oto me, every day is Friday, but whatever) and last Friday night, we decided to try out a new restaurant, some shiny new-ish chain restaurant all painted up to look like an old roadhouse (you know the type of place, rough wood walls, peanut shells on the floor, staff wearing overalls, cutesy "rural" names for menu items, etc.)

We get seated in a booth and I look around, taking in the faux-gritty interior and I happen to glance at the table next to us and directly in my sight line, staring back at me from a pair of white jeans is half an inch of purple panties and at least 2 inches of ass crack.

Yep, ass crack. (__|__)

This woman's shirt and pants were, perhaps, reverse magnetized and were repelling each other. Her shirt, maybe a size too small, had crept up about 6 inches and her pants, already low-rise, were making a run for the border.

She wasn't a troll or a gargoyle, she was a normal, healthy sized woman, but this isn't the point. The point is that I should not have to be faced with butt crack bordered by violet granny panties.

Her crack became like a tractor beam, I couldn't stop staring. Obviously, I wasn't the only one because the entire wait staff "happened" to wander by and snicker. After a more few minutes, an older woman at her table hissed "keep your eyes on your own table!"

If I hadn't been trying not to yack, I might have said "keep your crack to yourself" or "tell her to put her ass away", but I figured that she was being humiliated enough by flashing her butt to an entire restaurant.

Now, I'm well aware that it's damn near impossible to find pants these days that aren't low-rise. No matter how unflattering they may be to anyone larger than a size 1, it's what the retailers are selling. Personally, though, I have enough body awareness to feel when my shirt creeps up half a centimeter and I tug it down right away. I don't know how this woman didn't feel 8 inches of bare back and AT LEAST 2 inches of ass crack. When I got home, I decided to try a completely scientific experiment to see how low I would have to sag my pants to expose that much crack... it was completely ridiculous, I practically had my jeans around my thighs! Unless you have some kind of serious nerve damage that keeps you from feeling a breeze on the entire back side of your body, how can you just let it hang out like that?

She's lucky that I kept my kid from tossing a chicken nugget down there. Because I'm a responsible parent like that.