Hump what?

As of yet, I have nothing to do today.  I’ve been here forty-five minutes, had one bottle of juice, one cup of coffee, and one wardrobe malfunction.

 

There’s this one carpenter who’s sort of . . . shall we say. . .  a goofball.  For instance:  He’s just recently shaved off his horseshoe mustache (like a goatee with it’s chin shaven?) which he kept for a few months for shits.  Like the kind you’d expect to be accompanied by a full-fledged, greasy mullet.   But it’s not.  He’s a relatively normal, quite nice, could be considered handsome guy.  He’s also, like many people in this city, surprisingly (okay, not that suprising) outdoors-y.  To that regard, he has odd (odd to me, but probably not to the suprising many) sorts of items one wouldn’t normally expect to find (that is the definition of odd, right?) in say. . . an office cabinet.  Like a large, iron, something they’d replicate in a cartoon, scary-looking bear trap.  Which he pretended to arm in bossman’s office for a week.  So T taped shut his cabinet lest he set the ulna-shattering trap into action.  About a week later, J (oh yeah, I didn’t say his name yet—that’s the now-sort-of-slightly-un-shaven carpenter) went in there and pretended to have set off the totally defunct and antique bear trap.  (which he’d already told me was harmless).  Funny.   Anyways.  The point is this:

 

He asked me today if it was a fashion statement, or if there was a rip in my pants.

 

I had to verify with the receptionist that you could, in fact, see my neon green striped underwear through the hole in the back zipper of my pants.   Sweet.    Wish I could’ve at least used that excuse to go home for an hour or so—had some jeans in the car.  Damn.