I don’t have a butt. Sure, from a strictly physiological standpoint I am normal. What I lack is the protruding, “nice” part of the butt.
Apparently, some of the slacks I own accentuate my lack of a rear bumper—a look akin to that of a deflated balloon. My color matching ability is also in question.
Yesterday, I was invited to a graduation luncheon honoring twenty apprentices graduating from the Montana Electrical JATC program. I needed to look decent for that. After staring into the closet and shuffling through pairs of pants on my own for a bit, I realized that I was over my head, sartorially.
I called that girl to the bedroom.
“I need a butt-check.” I explained. “And, while you’re here, match me.”
That girl laughed and then said something rather disparaging. I think she actually meant to tell me I was handsome.
She’s nice that way.
After a couple of my own false starts, I think she got me put together pretty well.