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Pants, Interrupted
May. 2nd, 2006 12:21 pmThrough a bizarre sequence of events, I ended up at a large sporting goods store shopping for cargo pants. I must've tried at least ten pairs of pants, none of which suited me, before I found a pair that a) fit 2) looked decent on me and d) was not the horrible color of baby poop.
So I step out of the fitting room wearing these miracle pants. I'm doing the little half-circling, looking-down-at-the-pants walk, and I say to the husband, "These kind of make me feel like Angelina Jolie."
He, poor thing, is obviously unsure as to whether this is a thumbs up or thumbs down reaction. So he wrinkles his brow and, in a very atypically hesitant voice, says, "Um - the 'having Brad Pitt's baby, saving the world' Angelina Jolie, or the 'making out with your brother, wearing a vial of blood around your neck' Angelina Jolie?"
*snickers*
So I step out of the fitting room wearing these miracle pants. I'm doing the little half-circling, looking-down-at-the-pants walk, and I say to the husband, "These kind of make me feel like Angelina Jolie."
He, poor thing, is obviously unsure as to whether this is a thumbs up or thumbs down reaction. So he wrinkles his brow and, in a very atypically hesitant voice, says, "Um - the 'having Brad Pitt's baby, saving the world' Angelina Jolie, or the 'making out with your brother, wearing a vial of blood around your neck' Angelina Jolie?"
*snickers*
