What's the Point?

So last night while waiting up to celebrate the moment of my birth (3:17 am) I spent some time going through the links that others post on their blogs. I kept linking from one to another to another. In all this perusing I inevitably found it at least 90% of the blogs I examined: a picture of an ugly baby at Disneyland, a link to a weird/creepy Youtube video, and a post that says something to the degree of "I finally caved and started a blog." I think that I must have an entirely different philosophy of what keeping a blog is all about. Tonight I told my sister that I want my blog to be a funny experience for anyone who happens to come across it at 2 am when they should be doing something more productive. So, in honor of my beliefs, I promised my sister that I would post one of my greatest stories. It is a little bit long so this may be the place to stop if you have commitment issues, but trust me, it is well worth the investment of time. It is a little tale of how I bought my pair of pleather pants.

Two Halloween's ago I was going to this costume party where you and your date had to dress up as some sort of couple (as if I don't have enough reasons to hate Halloween). Anyway, my date and I decided to go as Sidney and Vaughn from the TV show Alias. We wanted to be the characters in one particular scene which required me to get a pair of pleather pants. Not knowing where to buy a pair, I asked my friend Kiera. "Hot Topic!" She stated, "They are on clearance on the website and I've heard that there is a great sale in the store too."

Through a strange circumstance I ended up at the mall the next day with my best friend Spencer and his Korean study buddy, One (Okay, not really his name, but none of us could pronounce it so "One" is what we called him). We ventured over to Hot Topic and stared at the darkness looming inside. Spencer informed me that he was going to wait outside but One followed me in and Spencer rushed in to rescue him from the evils of studded belts and emo 14 year old boys. I found an employee and asked him where I could find a pair of pleather pants. He looked at the three of us metrosexuals and asked "What are you dressing up for for Halloween?" Apparently our Banana Republic Jeans and moisturized skin gave it away that we were not shopping for real. After I told him about the spy thing he asked some more interesting questions which I dodged until we got to the pants.

Kiera was right, the sale was fantastic--so fantastic that no pants in my size were left on the rack. There was. however, a pair that was one size too big and another pair that was two sizes too small. I picked up one of each and found another worker--who was the most flamboyantly homosexual Asian man I have ever met in my life--to show me to the dressing room. The "dressing room" at Hot Topic was actually a hole in the wall covered by a red, velvet curtain. When we got to the back of the store the curtain was closed so I waited a couple moments for the room to be free. After another awkward minute the curtain is pulled back and out comes a woman trying on extremely scandalous dresses, holding a hairless chihuahua. I swear to you that I am not making this up. She stepped out to go and find more dresses so I went in and pulled back the red velvet.

In the dressing room I decided that because I would probably buy the pair that was big, I would try on the smaller pair first (strange reasoning, I know, but I was buying pleather). What I didn't know about pleather pants before this moment was the fact that they are sized to be able to fit skin-tight, so imagine me (not a small man) in skin-tight pants that are also two sizes too small. You could read the year on quarters in my pocket. The moment was too insane to keep to myself so I opened the curtain so that I could show Spencer the pants. When I drew back the curtain I was met with not only Spencer but One, the flamboyantly homosexual Asian worker, and the woman in an extremely scandalous dress holding the hairless chihuahua. At the exact same time, the homosexual Asian worker and the scandalous woman with the hairless chihuahua looked at me and screamed "Yes!!!" I looked at both of them and said "No." I went back into the dressing room, tried on the bigger pair, paid for it and walked out of the store.

In the end, I looked fantastic and the party was great. Besides avoiding open flames and setting hot beverages on my lap wearing the pants came off without a hitch. After the party I drove home and was extremely glad to peel off the hot, unbreathing pants that I had been wearing for the past six hours. When I did so I found that my underwear had been dyed completely black as if God was trying to tell me that I never should have done this.