Alright, here is the deal. I had originally planned to make a review about a newly released movie for today, but I unfortunately made the choice to go see Gringo, a dark-comedy action movie and holy guacamole was it ever bad. A complete dumpster fire of a film and I really don’t want to talk about that, so instead here is this.
I don’t like wearing sweatpants in public. Within my own home I’ll rock sweats harder than models at the Met Gala. When I’m outside and other people can see me though, hard pass.
It’s really simple for me. Wearing sweats in public makes me feel lazy, grimy and apathetic. It’s silly to think that something you wear can have such a big effect on you, but it does on me and I have a theory as to why. Actually it’s not so much a theory as it is a story.
This story takes place when I was in High School, or what I know refer to as ye olden days of yore. At this time I had a friend (Yes I hear you making the obvious joke of “What happened” it’s not appreciated.) and this friend of mine was going through a bit of a hard time. She had been through a rather rough break-up, at least as far as Magrath High School goes and it had kinda put her in a rut so to say. She came to school in sweats, no make-up hair just thrown in a ponytail with little to no effort put in. I think it’s important to note that normally she had a pretty professional look going and clearly took some pride in how she presented herself. She’s a tough cookie so at the time I figured she’d just shake it off after a couple of weeks. No biggie, happens to everyone.
Cut to like a month or two later. This girl is still coming into school everyday with this no effort style. Me basking in my glorious intellect summarized that she might just need a little push to get her out of this rut. This was high school though, so I couldn’t just walk up to her and ask if she wanted to talk about things or if she needed anything. No No I had my precious manhood to think of, I couldn’t be seen acting sensitive in any way shape or form or my testosterone would simply leak out of my body.
So instead I devised a bet with this friend of mine. If she could come into school everyday for a month like she put a genuine effort into her look I would give her 20 bucks or something, I don’t remember the exact amount. With almost no effort at all she crushed this bet. I weaseled out of the bet because I was too cheap/broke to pay up and again, I had my manhood to consider? Losing a bet to a girl? How disgraceful. (I actually thought these things at one point in my life. Blunder years indeed.) I honestly still feel bad about that to this day.
So that’s why I hate wearing sweats, at least in public. Because nearly a decade ago (AHHHH IM OLD AND DYING) I had a friend that was going through a hard time and I associated her apathy and struggle with the clothes she was wearing so closely that I begin to feel down and apathetic when I leave the house with sweats on. Brains are weird folks. Later.