My fly is down.
Right now. I'm looking at it. Not "it" - but my zipper. And it is down.
And the worst part? This has been happening a lot lately. Like twice a week for the past two months.
Is this some kind of subliminal message from my brain? Does my subconscious want me to be naked?
Or maybe I am leading a secret double life as a giant pervert. I guess it wouldn't be THAT secret, but having my fly down is a pretty big step in the sexual predator ladder. Going from occasional offensive jokes to having your hootenanny hanging out is a pretty large leap. That'd be like working at the Gap and then trying to convince me you were ghetto (sorry, Kanye).
But this is somewhat concerning. How many times has my fly been down and I didn't realize it? When talking to an old lady in the street? My boss? That guy at Chipotle? That makes TWO of us getting extra meat.
But what I do appreciate is that no one has mentioned it to me. It is awkward enough to discover your fly has been down on your own - but to have someone else mention it to you is the worst. I would rather meet the Queen of England with my fly down than have someone tell me about it. There is no comeback from that. No witty lines. No way to come out ahead when someone notifies you that you are too stupid to dress yourself.
So if you see me walking around with my fly down I have one request -