I am clearly the victim here because I agree to do things and go places with guys I don't know very well. Maybe I met him briefly at a friend's house or was introduced at a co-worker's birthday party. It's hard to get a feel for someone at an event like that, so when we exchange numbers and arrange a first date, it's like I'm settling in to watch a movie after having only seen the trailer.
So, imagine my horror when he steps out of his car wearing a baggy leather jacket. It's a sneak attack; my own personal fashion Pearl Harbor. How was I to know that he was the kind of guy to wear such an ugly garment? What is he, in a dad band? Does he smoke pot in his garage? I can't even sustain eye contact because my attraction to him has taken a kamikaze-esque nose dive. I feel betrayed, swindled even. He seemed normal enough when we met last week, how was I to know that he gets his clothes at Costco? I would've preferred if he had just showed up in a barrel and suspenders.
I hate baggy leather jackets more than I hate Zach Braff (and lord knows that I despise that puffy-lipped, weak-chinned motherfucker.) So, how do I screen for this in the future? Do I have to verbalize, "do you own a saggy leather jacket?" before I accept a date with a man? Is there a support group for girls like me? We need to band together to rid the streets of this horrible jacket atrocity.
The real question is: How can something made out of leather be so wimpy? The world may never know.
8 comments:
I can't stop laughing at the term "Dad Band."
do these stupid girls go to your speed dating things? I'm totally scooping them up if they do. stupid in a good way. sorry. im stupid too.
What do you mean "these stupid girls?" What are you talking about?
Hey, homie, I don't mind if you comment on our posts as long as it's civil and/or constructive. Capiche?
This has happened to me. Sadly, his jacket was suede and fringed. It practically screamed when he walked down the street. Obviously, my only choice was to make out with him...twice.
i was drunk
Anna -- allllll leather jackets are awful. All. They need to go the way of me mid-90s. They are consigned to the permanent dustbin of goatees and tattoos around the bicep and Hootie & The Blowfish. I'm with you... I'd just go further.
Leather jackets. Especially black leather jackets. Must. Be. Stopped.
If I'm picking you up on my Ducati Monster, Both you and I are wearing tiiiight leather jackets.
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