HomePop CultureA Day in the Life of My PJ Pants

A Day in the Life of My PJ Pants

So, just a few minutes ago I had a unique experience that I would like to share with you all. I was tooling around on "The Destiny Prognostication Machine," my new 15-inch 2.66 GHz MacBook Pro (the new has yet to wear off, so I haven't started calling it something lame like 'my computer' or 'my laptop' instead always using the full statistics or title) when the doorbell rang.  Me being a lazy sunnovabitch and it being my day off, I looked down to find myself wearing only a cami top and my Transformers PJ pants. This was hardly decent attire with which to be answering the door, so I grabbed an orange hoodie which nicely complemented the flame wreathed autobot symbol on my pants and opened the door.

There was a nicely dressed, smiling young woman standing there with a clipboard. She introduced herself as being a representative of the Census Bureau and could she ask me some questions. I had no sooner replied that, "I think we sent that in." than we both looked down to see a white streak that unfortunately matched the color of my new roommate's cat darting out the door and under my car.

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I won't give you the play by play of what happened next, but every time I looked under the car the cat managed to be under the exact opposite point and far out of arms reach. He soon got tired of my car and darted down the street to the neighbor's house, with my barefooted self and the Census chick trailing after him. I finally grabbed the damn fluffball as he stopped to smell the 'roses' in my neighbor's backyard garden and returned to my front door only to find out that it had closed and locked behind me.

Acting casual, I went around the side of the building to my window and started shoving the AC unit with one hand as I held the struggling houdini in the other. "Like I said, I'm pretty sure we sent it in. Or at least we should have. I don't really know. My roommate was in charge of the census."

She got all flustered and started awkwardly paging through her binder, balancing a stack of census forms in the other hand. "This IS -insert my address here- right?"

"Yeah, that's us."

"It looks like I have one for apartment number 2, but not 1." She looked up from her paperwork to see me eyeballing the size of the cat compared to the size of the opening I'd created by barely shifting the AC unit. Watching as I tried to shove the cat through the far too small space while keeping the AC from falling with the other hand, she finally asked. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

I chucked the reluctant cat through the window and used both hands to shift the AC to the side, thanking God that I'd put it in the day before, since we usually have rape-locks on the window that prevent them from being opened more than a few inches and glad that I had a linen chest right under the window that would prevent the AC from crashing to the floor. I looked at Census chick and then back to the window knowing that there was no way I was climbing through under my own power while probably waving my ginormous Transformer clad ass in her face as she stood outside and watched me make a fool of myself. "Would you mind breaking into my apartment if I gave you a lift?"

Cue strange look. "Um, yeah… Okay." So, I crouched down and gave her a ten finger lift as she climbed into the apartment, remarking. "This is the most interesting collection I've had today."

"Just go around to the front and make sure the doors don't latch behind you." I watched her climb over my bed and scowled at the white terror who was suddenly right there in my face, looking to escape back out the window. "I hate you just a little right now." Glaring at the mini-monster I grabbed the edge of the window and shut myself out.

When Census chick let me back into my own apartment, I returned to business as usual. "So, com'on in and take a seat."

She asked me all of 5 questions and then we both went on with our lives. I never did catch her name. I feel that if you're going to break into a building together you should at least know each other's names. It's days like these that make me believe that my life is the Truman Show version of a sitcom. The moral today kids is get your Census in on time or they will show up at your door and disrupt your life... They know where you live.

I'm not even going to tell you about Sunday when a friend and I took a 3 AM trip to the airport that involved wrong turns, driving into the buses only section of South Station, accidentally entering a restricted parking garage, Chinatown, watching a security guard sleep on the job and wondering if I should wake him up to get directions, street sweepers, diarrhea and walking around barefoot in my Transformer PJs in one of the Big Dig tunnels under Boston. Strangely enough, no alcoholic or drug substances went into the making of that adventure, being tired is intoxication enough. Also, if someone asks you "If the British call french fries chips, then what do they call chips?" The answer is crisps.

I've decided that these Transformer PJs are like my cape and bat-belt. They're my good luck adventurin' gear. The funny thing is that you probably think I'm either kidding or exaggerating. I'm not.

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