Dear Young Ladies,
We’re well in to basketball season again and I have to ask you all to please consider the difference bleachers make. I understand that most of us are on a limited wardrobe budget wise. I appreciate the cost of clothes and the desire to dress, at your age, attractively and fashionably. I still carry scars from my “high water pants” days in High School where I was verbally abused for growing faster than my pant leg length could keep up with. An inch off the top of my shoe was the only excuse that someone having a bad break out of zits needed to divert attention away from their face and onto my lack of cuff. Kill or be killed, I understand that and really don’t blame them. Peers can be cruel.
At the risk of running counter to fashion can I just toss this out to you? For those of you who absolutely insist on wearing low rise jeans or can’t afford to replace that old pair with something new and a little higher, please consider that bleachers do not, um, enhance the look.
For a few weeks now I’ve watched high school basketball and university basketball. I prefer to sit at the top of the stands, when I can, to get some support for my back (yes dear, I’m that old). That means the rest of the crowd is in front and below me. But you’re not just sitting in front of me, there are many others in my age and stage as well as your own peers up here. You sitting on a bleacher, leaning forward to watch the action, leaves the rest of us with a full view of the moon in various stages. I’ve already noted this season that many young ladies have chosen to bypass the whole bulkiness of the thong in favour of going “au natural”. (Or as we guys call it, “commando”.) Some of you are clearly still big fans of the thong and I say, “good for you!” But, believe me when I say that all of us would love for you to leave more to the imagination, in fact, I’m writing this to encourage you to leave more, much more, to the imagination.
Doubtless as you read this you’re thinking, “Perv!” And yes, I could stop watching the basketball game from the stands but short of that is that it’s just not as easy as saying “don’t look.”
Imagine we reverse the roles. Imagine yourself sitting, watching the game when in I walk. I go to the stands opposite you, facing you. I bring my 45 year old, hair covered, pair shaped body to rest directly opposite you. And I’m wearing my half shirt with the universities logo on it. You’ll never have to wonder if I’m an “inny” or an “outy” again. You’ll see that body hair, left unchecked, will grow long enough to braid. At the end of every quarter I stand, I turn around, I put my boot up on the bleacher seat behind me and bend over and tie – and I’m wearing my low risers. Can you honestly say you can keep yourself from looking? Human nature forces us to look. That’s how Mr. Ripley made his fortune off of dog faced boys and shrunken heads.
You would likely complain to someone. You might even file harassment charges. Maybe you’d just point me out to your friends and make sure they’ve seen the fat, hairy, half-crack guy before the end of the fourth quarter. You might even grab your cell phone and snap a picture you can post later on Facebook. I’d prefer if you just complained.
So all I’m saying is, please stop. Tie your coat around your waste. If you’re dressing this way for the boys, trust me on this, you won’t want the boys for whom this is a turn on. Mystery is far more attractive than you repeatedly exposing the crack of your bum.
If I’ve offended you, I apologize. If you, like me in high school, can’t afford new pants every time you grow. If you just can’t keep up with what all the crap you eat in your teens and twenties is doing to your butt, I sympathize. But I implore you, for your good and ours, don’t sit in bleachers, don’t lean over or please wear a coat you can wrap around your waste.
If you don’t, I may have to start sitting in front of you. And if I do, I’ll be wearing low risers. Think about it.