Wardrobe Malfunction

This month I set a little challenge for myself: I want to run one mile every day for 30 days.  I'm currently on Day 6, still on track. This might be a dubious goal, however.  It only takes 10 minutes to run a mile.  It takes me longer in general to change into my gym clothes.  10 minutes of exercise is not really a thing anyway.  I will proudly boast to the doctor the next time I get a physical, "Well, I always get in my daily 10 minutes of cardio." I need to bump this up to 2 miles to get anything out of it probably, but as it stands, I like my little goal because it's easily achievable.  So this morning before work, I finished my mile at the Clarendon gym and I looked in my bag to grab my work clothes after I took a shower.  I pulled out the shirt, the shoes and then a sickening realization washed over me.  The pants.  Dear God, where are the pants?  No pants!!! I stood frozen, contemplating my next move.  How could I forget this?  I saw only two options:
  1. Ride the metro back home, get the pants and ride back to work for a round trip of 1.5 to 2 hours.  And call my boss and explain why I was late to work because I forgot my pants.  
  2. Make do with the swishy gym pants.  Just go with it and pray no one notices until the shops open at 10 a.m. and you can buy another pair of pants.
Dear reader, what would you do when faced with such an impossible choice?  I texted Joe frantically and tried to call my mom for advice.  Joe wrote back,"O.M.G.  That is one of the reasons I always fail to work out before work.  I'm terrified I'd forget socks.  But pants is worse."

Much worse!

Daredevil that I am, I went with option 2, the nice sweater combined with gym pants and sneakers.  I decided the heels would make the whole thing even more ridiculous.  I darted off the elevator to my desk, pants swish swish swishing as I went.

No meetings on the Outlook calendar, phew.  I pushed my chair up as close to the desk as possible, but I thought maybe I should tell my immediate coworkers just to cut the awkwardness off at the pass.  "Peter, I don't have any pants!" I exclaimed.

Wait.  That came out all wrong.

Luckily, the stars aligned and I stayed in my chair till 9:55 a.m., then snuck out to Ann Taylor Loft and was the first person inside when they opened the doors.  I flagged down the salesperson for help.  Here was a guaranteed sale for her.

I tried on one pair of plain black pants from the sale rack and bought them, wearing them out of the store.  And here's where my luck turned around.  Guess how much they were?


Yes, really.  That fact redeemed my day entirely.  Good ol' Ann Taylor Loft!  Can I be featured in a commercial to tell my dramatic and uplifting tale?