Hi, I'm Miss No Pants

Yesterday, I was very proud to have done laundry and folded it and have clean clothes just waiting for me in the clean laundry basket. I do happen to have a plethora of black pants (they are my favorite thing to wear...always and ever.) and randomly grabbed a freshly laundered pair and put them right on. P and I proceeded to follow our normal morning schedule, eat a bagel, commiserate with the sad dog that we would be gone all day, toss some dishes in the dishwasher. P dropped me off at work in the Financial District (where pretty much everyone else loves wearing black too) and I proceeded to do normal work things.

About an hour into my morning I stood up to walk to the kitchen. Imagine my surprise and chagrin when I felt a distinct breeze up my pants. I couldn't really understand why I would have a hole in my pants but I decided that whatever it was I could fix it with my stapler.

So this, dear friend, is how I ended up in the office copy room, barricading my door with my ass, wielding a stapler in one hand and yanking down my pants with the other. As I examined my CROTCHLESS pants I quickly realized that this was no hole, reparable with some common office supplies, but instead the absolute definition of a pair of pants, with absolutely zero fabric all along the seam. In other words, I went to work wearing crotchless pants. Nice.

I yanked up the pants, gchatted some BM's, took their advice and hoisted a sweater around my waist and literally, hung out until lunch. No task too urgent to move me from my desk and all chores just had to wait until I awkwardly rode the bus home and changed into (another) pair of black pants.

Here is a picture of the offending pantalones. How did this happen and why didnt I, or least P notice as I left the house? The world may never know.