March 7, 2003
The Beltless Wonder
Son of a bitch. Once again, I forgot to wear a belt. This irks me. I stumbled upon this discovery during one of my hidings in the men's room. Sure, it was convenient for nature's call, but dammit I had meant to wear a belt. I looked at my belts this morning and thought about how I would put one on before I left, sliding the leather through each khaki loop hole until snug and fastened around my waist. I had even made a point to talk to myself, reminding ME not to forget to leave the house without it, like I have done so many times in the past. I had put a lot of effort into not forgetting to tie up the trousers with my thick black J. Crew leather strap.
But here I am. I feel like I just woke up in some strange apartment in Chinatown after a long night of drinking. What happened? How did I get to this point? And for christ sakes, what the hell happened to my belt?
What distracted me so much this morning that I forget such an essential piece of fashion? There are three or four minutes this morning, that I don't remember. Why?
Now a sense of dread pervades the day. What will everyone think about this beltless wonder. What will my colleagues say about me at work ("Look no belt, told you he's easy...."). How can I face my girlfriend grimacing in disgust at the slob that I have become, without my belt.
Of course, finding myself in a survival situation without a belt, is sure doom. No repelling, no whip, no tourniquet, no friction for fire-making, and no place to hang the tools you might forge from stone and carve from wood. There will be no make-shift leather head band to set me aside as a bad ass not to be messed with under any circumstance. Without my belt, I could just die.Posted by Monkeyspit at March 7, 2003 11:19 AM