In Which I Miss a Crucial Step in Dressing Myself

Saturday night, I did my fair share of drinking. Our group ran up a $497 tab at just our first bar of the night. But the most embarassing moment of the night came before I was halfway through my second beer.

sabresgame.jpgBecause I had been craning my neck for the entire first period to watch a TV almost directly over my head, I got up from the table to watch the Sabres-Islanders game from a more comfortable angle. I chose a spot next to my friend against a short wall that divided the bar from the seating area. This spot also happened to be directly next to the hostess’ station.

I leaned back and watched the intermission report and talked with my friend while observing the massive crowd. I had been resting my elbow over the receipt printer, so whenever a waitress came over to close out a tab, I moved my arm away. Given how packed the bar was, I figured I was being a model bar patron.

A few minutes into the second period, the hostess came over and ripped off a piece of a receipt and took her pen to the paper. I was a little distracted by her frantic scribbling, but I thought nothing of it. Then, she took the small piece of paper and held it up in my general direction. I’ve taken the opportunity to painstakingly recreate what the paper looked like:


XYZ? I had no idea what the “XYZ” stood for. For a few seconds, I thought she was holding it up for another waitress behind me, or signaling to one of the bartenders. Then, I realized that she was making eye contact with me.

I gave her a strange look. “What?”

zipper.jpg“X-Y-Z,” she reinforced.

“I see that,” I replied. “What does it mean?”

The hostess looked down towards my waist. “Your zipper.”

I stood in stunned embarassment. I looked down, and sure enough, the fly on my jeans was half-open, exposing my boxer shorts. Considering that the last time I had touched my jeans was after being at the gym that afternoon, I had probably been walking around Manhattan for at least four hours with my fly down. “Oh. Wow. Thanks.”

“No problem,” she said. “I bet you haven’t heard that one since you were 8 years old. Like, your parents probably said that to you.”

“Yeah,” I began to concur. “Actually… I probably heard it the last time I was too retardedly drunk to remember to zip up.”

So, thank you, very attractive blond hostess, for sparing me from further embarassment and potential indecent exposure on Saturday night. Now, every time I zip up, I will think of you.



Filed under What I Did This Weekend

14 responses to “In Which I Miss a Crucial Step in Dressing Myself

  1. Is that a photo of Calico Jack’s? If it is, I should seriously consider quitting drinking because once you can identify a crowded bar in a photo, it might be a sign to slow down.

  2. Thankfully, no, it’s not. And God save me if I ever step foot in that godforsaken Midtown rathole frat bar again.

    Nah, I have no opinion on Calico Jack’s. Not at all.

  3. Ok, good. That’s a win-win situation. I don’t need rehab and I didn’t lose all respect for you because you didn’t visit that hell-on-earth, wallet-raping sink hole.

    Yea, I really have no opinion either.

  4. Joe

    When I was a kid, XYZ stood for “eXamine Your Zipper,” a back-formation if I ever heard one.

  5. Spencer

    Is it… McFadden’s? (I assume it might be from all the Buffalo jerseys…?)

  6. There is nothing better than getting one’s swerve on in Midtown.

    Great site!

  7. A very good thing you didn’t decide upon going “commando” that day!

  8. rivergirlie

    very encouraging that the hostess was examining you so closely in that region … although, on second thoughts, perhaps it wouldn’t have been the best time to ask for her phone number.

  9. That is funny as hell….I would have asked to see her panties since she already saw your boxers…Fair trade….

  10. weirddreamer

    Ok…first…she probably wouldnt have agreed to that trade seeing as she was working…as amusing as that is.

    secondly…how did you not notice you were flying low before you got to the bar? Is it not cold where you are? Was the wind not blowing? Again I find this very amusing…

  11. weirddreamer: I’m wondering that, too. I wish I knew how I managed to walk several blocks on a relatively cool day and not feel a draft. I guess I just wasn’t walking into the wind.

  12. Pingback: Top Posts «

  13. Well, -how- exposed were said boxers? Were they the “if you happen to glance, you’ll see” kind of exposed? Or the variety in which your underwear thinks to itself, “I’m going to stick bits of myself out of this fellow’s trousers and see who notices”?
    I have a bit of experience in undergarments thrusting themselves out my clothing; my ex-favourite black brassiere had a penchant for waving its lacy black appendages out of my cleavage. Perhaps we should start a support group: “Have you been wronged by your thong? Come to Undergarments Anonymous!”

  14. weirddreamer

    Well…All I have to say is thank god for the bar tender person…

    Though I still find it way to amusing for my own good….

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