What's that?

I have this pair of cargo shorts that I wear all the time. Really….at least twice a week! They are comfortable, convenient, and talk about the storage space. I came home one day and my wife gives them to me after a day of shopping. I love those shorts! Well..I used to.

Last weekend Carri and I went to the Steve Miller Band concert with another couple. We all got a room at a Hotel close enough to the venue so that there would be no driving involved. While the ladies are getting ready, we all have a few beverages and for all accounts, it looks like it’s gonna be a good time. Well….it’s time to leave the room and head out, so Carri asks me to carry a few of her items…..ID, gum, etc… etc. No problem…..I have my handy dandy cargo shorts on.

We’re walking..walking until we get to the gate. At the gate there is a line for patrons where some “workers” are checking everyone for nuclear bombs or something…no biggie. Well, it’s my turn and the pat down lady (we will call her Pat) asks me to pull my shirt tight around my waist so she can see my waistline. I think she just wanted to check out the sixpack….but whatever. No bombs. Then she asks me if I have anything in the cargo area of my cargo shorts. Ummm…..why yes I do Pat. Then she asks me to press the material of my shorts against my leg so she can see the outline of my...ah hem...items. No problem…..

Pat: What’s that?

Me: My wallet.

Pat: What’s that?

Me: My keys.

Pat: What’s that?

Me: Can of tobacco.

Pat: What’s that?

Me: What?

Pat: That!

Me: I…uhhh…..(looking at her…dumbfounded…stalling)

Pat: What is that sir?

Me: I don't know what you're.......

Pat: That! Right there! (as she puts her hand on it and starts squeezing it)

Me: Hey! It’s a freakin TAMPON lady! But it’s not mine! My wife made me….(smack upside the head)......OUCH!!......(the death stare). Never mind.

Pat: Ok sir…move along! (Big dumb grin on her face)

Stupid Shorts!