Please give me back my pants. I really like them.
The walk back to my dorm was kind of chilly, and, seeing as how we’re in Ohio, it will only get chillier. As winter approaches, I will be forced to wear socks of increasing height to compensate for the lack of knee coverage, and unless you’re willing to provide me some sort of knee pads, my legs will be utterly cold. Plus, on a matter of principle, I will be forced to wear only my underwear around campus, which I’m fairly sure is not cool with either the administration or the greater-Granville-area municipality.
Look, guys, I understand that it’s certainly far too much to ask simply, “Please give me back my pants,” so I’m willing to compromise: you can have them Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I’ll get them Monday, Wednesday, Friday with an alternating weekend schedule. That way you can enjoy them at the beach or in a grassy meadow; frolic in them, enjoy your time together.
But I ask you, with the utmost respect, in full admission that I didn’t touch your bass guitar (dude I’m in Jazz Band, we should jam), to please give me back my pants.
And my belt, too, would be cool. I’m not sure Dockers makes them like that anymore.