Just Say No

Despite his good looks and tray of fruity drinks, this man is the enemy. I will dump the drinks on his ugly pants so he won't wear them anymore.

Since the weather in Boston has slowly turned from Pluto-like conditions to a habitat that can support human life, I've begun to venture from the confines of the office during my lunch break. I stroll through the Common, watching businessmen, students and tourists enjoy the sunshine that we'd thought gone forever in January. I enjoy the people-watching almost as much as the actual sunshine and fresh air.
My hetero life partner, Kristen, usually accompanies me during lunch and since we're a couple of fabulous single girls, we stare at the boys. Kristen tends to nudge me when the men in Sox hats walk by, usually in jeans and a basic t-shirt. I let out a little coo when guys with thick-framed glasses and a laptop bag pass, their pasty skin reflecting the sun like the moon. While there are a good amount of handsome men around, many of them are like a sixteen year-old boy with a Fender guitar-- they have the proper instrument, but they don't know how to play.
Men of Boston (and the world): stop wearing pleated pants.
For the love of kittens and rainbows, stop. I am begging you. There is no excuse for wearing khakis with pleats in them. Nor is there any excuse for wearing corduroys with pleats. My ex-whatever he was wore dark brown pleated cords. My friend was amazed that I even appeared in public with him while he had these fashion abominations on his thin frame. (I'm not even going to discuss pleated jeans. If you own pleated jeans, time-travel back to 1985 and return them.) It's confounding-- why do you wear pleats, gentlemen? Flat-front pants are sold at all major retailers. Carson has told you not to wear these pants. If you've dated me, I've told you. Yet still, like stubborn children, you insist on it. They don't make your ass look good. No girl is going to want to look at your ass when she's seen the front of your pants and seen fissures that are usually reserved for Scottish garb. I can only think that you wear pleats because you think you're going to end up with male cameltoe or something without them-- but flat-front is your friend. It makes you look lean, directs attention to what's below your belt and shows that you want to present yourself well.

See? It's okay. He looks great, and I can't even see his face. Perhaps he isn't carrying fruity drinks for me to imbibe, but I'm okay with that since it would not be embarrassing to take him to a proper bar.
Thanks for making my lunch much more interesting than just reading the Globe, gentlemen. Keep walking by, with you unpleated pants and Sox hats worn proudly. I'll be the redhead who has no qualms about staring you down as if you're a gazelle on the plains of Africa and I am the hungry lioness.