D*** You Button Fly!

This one's for the boys.

Do you remember back to about second or third grade? I remember going into the boys bathroom and dropping my pants down around my ankles to pee at the urinal. Then I learned that big boys only open the pants but don't drop them. And as I have grown in wisdom these past 24 years, I have perfected the art of just unzipping the fly and peeing with as little exposure as possible. This is, in fact, good bathroom etiquette in the men's room.

But I must admit, I'm at a loss when it comes to the button fly. I don't understand it. It boggles my mind that someone thinks that oversized buttons are better than zippers. I admit, there are occasions for buttons. The crotch is never one of them. But lately, every time I pick up a pair of jeans that I like... sure enough, they're button fly. It's actually made it onto my top ten list of things that annoy me. And that's saying something.

It's just a ridiculous concept. I'm afraid to go out in public in my jeans. What if I have to pee?! I went to the movies the other night and as soon as the movie was over, I had to empty the two Mountain Dews I drank. So I proceed to the crowded bathroom and tried to undo the gargantuan pinball bumpers that are keeping my pants in the appropriate position. I would have had better luck with a combination lock. I started to get angry at my pants . It's always embarrassing to be fussing with your pants in public and yelling at your groin, "come on you stupid..." You can't maneuver your hands right to just open the middle buttons. So with my pants bolted down, I proceeded to unbutton from the top down. I might as well just dropped them down to my ankles.

And once again, yesterday I found myself in the dressing room. I had found the perfect pair of pants. I got them back to the dressing room and a small piece of me died in that dressing room. On the inside I screamed, "Noooooooooo, D*** You Button Fly!" And actually, audibly said, "Crap! I hate you jeans!" This made for interesting small talk between myself and the dressing room attendant. Did you know that the more you try to explain that you aren't crazy... the crazier you sound? I now know that. And knowing is half the battle.