Aside from Firefighter Shirts Being SOOO Three Years Ago...
... it should be illegal for any teenager to rock a "FDNY Tennis" t-shirt.
It's social suicide for that age group. Let's codify reality and save lops like the one I saw today thousands of dollars in therapy and multiple beatings. Don't give me any of this "what if it's the only shirt he can afford" crap. Those fancy Fire Department shirts cost just as much as the super-dope "Strictly For My Ninjas" t-shirt I bought last month. I'm guessing the overhead in this particular situation is even more, given the special Tennis Team designation. That last part is conjecture. The rest, however, is a matter of law; I won't be accepting disagreement on those points.
Anyhow, this is all especially true because said "FDNY Tennis" t-shirt was tucked into the super-tight shorts of a super-short boy. Even truer because the super-short boy's super-short shorts are all the way up in the small of his short little arm's pits. It just looks weird. Plain weird. Weirder than I can express.
I felt bad for him as I drove past, he looked uncertain and insecure, and the outfit could only contribute to his sad state. I found myself staring, the way you look at a lost puppy you feel bad for but don't have the dedication to help in any meaningful way. When he noticed my gaze, he quickly looked away, like he might suddenly gain power of invisibility. Continuing with the canine analogies, I went on to think he was much like those dogs that wince when you walk towards them, because they get beat all the time and now expect it from everyone. That thought made me sad, so I winked at the poor sap. All sexy like. I hope he went home and told all his Dungeons and Dragons friends and FDNY Tennis Team buddies and is feeling a little less dorky for even one day. I am hopeful I helped his self-image just a wee bit. I'm oblivious to the fact he may have sensed my pity. I like trying to do my part.
It's social suicide for that age group. Let's codify reality and save lops like the one I saw today thousands of dollars in therapy and multiple beatings. Don't give me any of this "what if it's the only shirt he can afford" crap. Those fancy Fire Department shirts cost just as much as the super-dope "Strictly For My Ninjas" t-shirt I bought last month. I'm guessing the overhead in this particular situation is even more, given the special Tennis Team designation. That last part is conjecture. The rest, however, is a matter of law; I won't be accepting disagreement on those points.
Anyhow, this is all especially true because said "FDNY Tennis" t-shirt was tucked into the super-tight shorts of a super-short boy. Even truer because the super-short boy's super-short shorts are all the way up in the small of his short little arm's pits. It just looks weird. Plain weird. Weirder than I can express.
I felt bad for him as I drove past, he looked uncertain and insecure, and the outfit could only contribute to his sad state. I found myself staring, the way you look at a lost puppy you feel bad for but don't have the dedication to help in any meaningful way. When he noticed my gaze, he quickly looked away, like he might suddenly gain power of invisibility. Continuing with the canine analogies, I went on to think he was much like those dogs that wince when you walk towards them, because they get beat all the time and now expect it from everyone. That thought made me sad, so I winked at the poor sap. All sexy like. I hope he went home and told all his Dungeons and Dragons friends and FDNY Tennis Team buddies and is feeling a little less dorky for even one day. I am hopeful I helped his self-image just a wee bit. I'm oblivious to the fact he may have sensed my pity. I like trying to do my part.
posted by Lex Fori at
6:35 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home