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People go through struggles every day. Sometimes a person can’t decide what to wear in the morning, or they have to walk to school without getting stabbed by street toughs, or they struggle internally to keep from strangling their colleagues and co-workers (I have this one fairly often; I am not sure what the score is, but right now I am pitching a shutout). Yesterday I had a struggle against gravity. Specifically, my body and the earth were playing a day-long game of tug-of-war with my pants.

When I got dressed yesterday morning, I forgot to include a belt with my outfit. My pants were fresh out of the dryer, and being freshly laundered, they weren’t as “loose” as they would have been if I had worn them a time or two since their previous washing. I suspect this is why I didn’t think to put on my belt. I pretty much threw my pants and shoes on and headed out the door. It wasn’t until I got to work that I realized there was a problem.

As most of you (who don’t exclusively wear sweatpants) probably know, the longer you wear something, the more it loosens up. Although my pants were a little saggy on me when I got to work, by the end of the day I was honestly concerned that they might fall off at any moment. Not a big deal at work since I just sit at my desk, pinning my pants between the chair and my shapely behind, but I had to go to school after work. I just sit just as hard during class as I do at work, but a fair amount of walking is required to get from my car to my classroom.

As I sat in the parking garage at school, I scanned my car for anything I could use as a makeshift belt. There was a scarf, abandoned when the cold left, and though it was long enough, I would have looked like less of an idiot baby-stepping to class with my pants around my ankles than I would have with that scarf holding my pants up. Plus I’m not sure I could have made it fit through the belt loops in my jeans. That was it.

The only thing I had going for me was the fact that I had put on clean underwear that morning. Hopefully no one would get a chance to see them. I’m all for self-expression, but I’m pretty strongly against the practice of young men wearing their pants in such a fashion that the world sees their boxer shorts. I have no desire to be that guy. And while I’m on the subject, I’d also like to mention my disdain for dudes wearing girls’ jeans, which I keep seeing more and more often (at the mall). Wtf, dudes? But I digress.

I got out of the car and my pants immediately fell to a dangerous level, but seemed like they might stay. Just to be cautious, I took everything other than my wallet out of my pockets and transferred them to my bookbag. You don’t want to load up a pack mule with a gimpy leg.

I took a few steps and knew that no matter how light I made my load, I was going to have issues. I walked slowly and purposely, senses heightened, trying to feel for any sign that my jeans were giving up the fight. I now realize how old people must feel when walking and trying to protect their brittle pelvises. Eventually I stuck my hand in one pocket and tried to hold tight to the material inside without making it to obvious that I was making a fist inside my pants. I don’t know if I got any strange looks, since I think I stared at the ground the entire way.

I made it to class and back to the car without incident, and I now have a much greater appreciation for the value of belts.

Ha ha, no way, dude. You are easily replaceable.