Fashion is not the first thing on my mind when we’re traveling. Fashion is rarely on my mind, as evidenced by my need to wear a t-shirt with “Dork Peppermint Patties” emblazoned on the front of it. I do, however, make an effort to be properly dressed when we go into places to eat or shop. I hate the trucker stereotype – dirty, unkempt, and unwashed – and try to counter it as much as possible.
There’s been a lot of talk lately about improving the image of trucking. There have been many articles written about the need for a collared shirt and pants without holes in the knees to make you a successful driver. While I don’t think it’s necessary to wear a tie to garner respect, I do feel it’s necessary to properly cover your genitals when in public. Please. For the love of God.
We were in North Georgia and had stopped for lunch at Arby’s (must have been in a Pilot, I don’t remember). It was busy, there were a lot of truckers and construction workers about. The attire ranged from wife-beater tee with sweat pants and flip-flops to Carhartts, hard hats and work boots. I myself was sporting a new Georgia hoodie and jeans. (That really wasn’t an important detail, I just wanted y’all to know I don’t wear a Dork Peppermint Patty t-shirt all the time.)
I was sitting down, waiting for the food when he walked in. By “he” I mean the Crotchless Wonder. By “Crotchless Wonder” I mean the idiot had no crotch in his jeans. At all. It was entirely ripped out and had been for some time. This wasn’t a case of accidentally ripping your pants at work and not having a spare pair, this jackass actually put pants on that had the crotch ripped out of them. And before you go and yell at me for making fun of someone who is less fortunate, know that he was throwing $100 bills around like gum wrappers. I think he could have sprung for another pair of pants, or at least a crotch patch, but he enjoyed the freedom and airiness of crotchless jeans. Excuse me while I vomit a little.
I was immediately pissed off. I think it’s rude for anyone to force me to look at their no-no squares, be they male, female or otherwise. It’s disrespectful to yourself and the general public to walk around with your butt, boobs or berries hanging out. Seriously, the fact this has to be mentioned at all is disturbing to me. We as humans have been wearing clothes for thousands of years now, and some of us still can’t get it right.
George brought the food over, and noticed immediately I was unhappy about something.
“Who are you giving the stank eye to over there?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the guy with his junk hanging out all over the place.”
“What the hell? Did someone flash you?”
“He’s flashing the entire world and getting away with it! There’s no crotch in his jeans!”
“Stop pointing and yelling. He’s going to hear you. And he has on underwear, you can’t see his junk.”
“Of course he’s going to hear me. I’m going to ask him to please drape a napkin over his wiener so I don’t have to look at it. Underwear are meant for just that. Underwear. I don’t want to see his bumps and bulges while I’m trying to eat. As a matter of fact, I’m not eating. I’m going to find the manager so he can change the sign on the door from ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ to ‘no shirt, no shoes, no proper covering for you genitalia, no service.’”
“You’re going to make a scene, aren’t you?”
“How am I making a scene? I put on a bra to come in here and this jerkwad can’t even cover his twigs and berries properly! I’m not the bad guy here!”
“Look, he’s leaving. You can relax and eat.”
“Pffft. Relax? I’m following him to his truck and offering him a paper sack to wear for pants. Then I’m going to tell him his Momma would be ashamed.”
“Babe. Calm down.”
“Of course he probably doesn’t have a Momma. People who traipse around half nude at truck stops usually don’t have decent Mommas. Also, people who won’t pull their pants up and let their ass hang out. They don’t have Mommas either.”
“And what about those people who put their little children in yoga pants with the word JUICY across the butt? What the hell is wrong with those people? Are they grooming future pole dancers, or what? The only reason a six-year-old’s butt would be juicy is something best left for the bathroom and not advertised to the general public.”
“OK, I can see we’re not eating.”
“Who can eat? I’m concerned for the welfare of people without a Momma. Oh wait, is that a chocolate turnover? I love those things….”