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December 31, 2009
Errands
I left the house on foot, with my nap sack and canvas bags. I had a few errands to run, notably to fetch the dry cleaning. And because the grocery store is next to the dry cleaners, I could do a swing-by and pick up a few things for the New Years' feast.
I walked down Partridge Avenue, along El Camino, and stood at the corner waiting for the light to change. Dozens of cars zoomed by. This isn't New York, where jaywalking is a sport. This is California, where nobody is in such a rush. The light changed and I walked across the busy intersection, then proceeded to meander through the parking lot to the grocery store. I stopped to help an elderly lady unload her groceries into the trunk of her car, then took her basket to do my shopping.
I was on the hunt for bread crumbs, a seemingly simple thing. But I wandered aimlessly, then asked for help. Three store clerks helped and we found some. I realized that I had forgotten avocados, so I went back to the other end of the store to fetch them. A few more things, and I checked out.
I walked next door to the dry cleaners, picked up our things, and began to walk back across the parking lot to the light. Back along El Camino, I crossed through the lot in front of the muffler shop, where a friendly guy said "Your zipper is down."
Uggg! So it was!
After the flash of embarrassment, I thanked him. Instead of focusing on the humiliation, I pondered why it had taken so long for anyone to say anything. Why had the elderly lady not said anything? Is it impolite? Why is it awkward to tell someone they are flying low? What is it about our culture that these helpful little tips are so inconceivably difficult to discuss?
Indeed, I have seen people (men and women) with their flies down, and haven't said anything. Why not? Is it because we don't want to embarrass them?
I admit that I wasn't all that embarrassed, because thankfully I am one who wears underwear. Black ones at that. So really, what's the big deal if someone happens to peer through my open fly to see .... oh my, black underpants?!
Maybe I should become one of these young kids who grabs his crotch every five minutes. I'm not too sure why they do this? Are they checking to make sure it's still there? But this way I would know whether my fly was down before someone else could tell me.
The human race really is a curious animal.
Posted by dave at December 31, 2009 11:51 AM