A Night in Tight Pants
Just as the
1980’s did not begin exactly on January 1, 1980, or January 1, 1981 (according
to variously picky persons), but rather with the inauguration of Ronald Reagan
or the advent of MTV or, (my personal choice) the first episode of Late Night with David Letterman—the
night in question did not necessarily begin with sundown. In the opinion of those who were there, the
night began with the arrival of clean laundry.
“Finally I
have something to wear!” remarked Ruben, laying aside his copy of Wooly Space Arachnid, rising from his
bed, and taking the laundry basket from his wife’s arms.
“This is an
enlightened household,” Manya, the wife, perorated, watching Ruben dig through
the freshly folded clothes. “I’m a
modern woman, a feminist; you, my husband, agree with me on just about
everything political and social. Why is
it then, that I’m the only one around here who does the dishes or the laundry?”
“Because if
I was to do it,” Ruben answered, selecting a pair of black jeans (his only pair
of black jeans, it so happened), “It wouldn’t be done to your satisfaction.”
“It
wouldn’t be done at all,” Manya asserted.
She was on the verge of correcting Ruben’s use of the word “was” in the
previous sentence when she noticed the man struggling to get the pants on.
“Aren’t
those too tight?” she asked.
“No, it’ll
be alright,” Ruben grunted, fastening the button.
“Won’t you
be uncomfortable?”
“They’ll
stretch out.”
Manya
imagined Ruben running from the police.
.
