Wednesday, October 17, 2012

What a Sight!!

On the day after the second Presidential debate, you might expect me to offer my brilliant insights into who won and why. But the thing is, the debates have managed to suck all the brilliance out of me. The other thing is, I only watched it during the commercial breaks of the Yankees v. Tigers game so, there’s that. When I did tune in, it seemed to be all hand waving, platitudinous talking points and questions being asked by that most rare of electoral species...the undecided, disappointed, democratic voter from Long Island. Let’s call it a technical draw and let the media declare Obama the clear winner, and move on.

What I do want to talk about is the amazing thing I saw yesterday. I was driving on Dumbarton between Lakeside and Staples Mill when I was nearly blinded by the most hideous vision. At this point I must pose a question to the ladies in this audience….WHY??

What I saw walking down the side walk was a very large woman, what our parents used to call “big-boned”. I’m thinking this woman would weigh in somewhere between 275 and 300. Her girth was spread out over a not so nimble frame of 5 feet, 4 inches, so, if she were a running back, the announcers would refer to her “low center of gravity”. Anyway, this particular woman was wearing a pair of blaze orange spandex pants. Her ample backside looked like it consisted of two or three watermelons with a couple of cantaloupes thrown in for good measure. And, all of them somehow stuffed into those pants the color of brand new, never used traffic cones. To complete the ensemble, she chose a smart midriff cut sweatshirt that let all the world see a two inch sliver of flab protruding out all the way around. The color of this odd mini-top was some sort of electric, neon magenta. The combination of these two colors was enough to not only stop traffic, but make traffic do u-turns and speed away in the opposite direction.

In fairness and in the interest of full disclosure, the point should be made that I am not exactly a fashion plate myself. No one has ever mistaken me for a GQ model. I’m a Men’s Warehouse kind of guy. I buy clothes once every two years whether I need any or not. But, what the heck? Why do women allow themselves to be seen in public adorned in this way? Do people like this ever avail themselves of mirrors? Did anybody look at this poor woman before she stepped outside and say something like…” What...wait, Edna. You may want to rethink that look.”

As my car passed her, I tried not to stare. But after awhile, I glanced in the side mirror to check out the front view. Emblazoned across the magenta mini-top, swaying mightily were the words…”I’M HOTT”. Yes dear. Yes, you are.