Los Angeles

Boot-cut jeans

It was a nice California night and I wanted to go for a walk. It has gotten quite chilly, so I put on my slim boot-cut jeans, slipped into a pair of beautiful Salamander dress shoes I bought in Budapest three years ago and touched the door handle when the latter suddenly moved.

“Hey, I’m Brian!” said the man that appeared in the door.

He was short, well built, wore dress pants and a non-wrinkle polo t-shirt. His hair was long and greased flat to his head, on both sides, however, it was shaven clean. In his hand was a large suitcase.

“Mikhail,” we shook hands.

As we shook hands, something big fell from the doorframe and, fluttering its wings, flew up my pants. At least that was what I saw. I didn’t believe what I saw because, simply, like I mentioned earlier, my pants were very slim boot-cut jeans. Nothing could go up those pants!

“There is something in my pants,” I said, very matter-of-factly.

Brian looked at me perplexed. Something tickled my leg. I quickly released his hand and slapped my own buttocks.

“Yes, there is definitely something in my pants!” I said, a little louder.

I yanked on the belt and unzipped the zipper.

“Ummm, are you sure?” Brian stepped back.

I wasn’t sure anymore. A thought suddenly went through my mind that civilized men don’t take their pants off just after they had been introduced. A long pause ensued. Maybe there really was nothing in my pants.

“There is only one way to find out.” I said.

To Brian’s bewilderment I began to feel myself up and down the pants and, when I reached the knee, something bit me in the shin. I screamed like a little girl. In a hurry I threw off my Salamander dress shoes and my pants followed. Never before in my life had I taken my pants off so quickly, not to mention, in front of a man I just introduced myself to. Brian retreated to the kitchen in search of, as he later claimed, tissue paper for me. As the pants fell, a giant cockroach the size of a man’s palm came out and hurried across the floor.

It was then Brian’s turn to scream like a little girl. Somehow, in a matter of zero seconds, in his hand was a large measurement cup which he promptly used to cover the horrible insect.

“Holy shit! What the fuck is that, a cicada?”

He slipped a piece of paper, the end of lease agreement, under the cup and lifted the whole thing up so as not to let the cockroach escape. He carried it to the kitchen counter.

“As far as the introductions go that was by far one of the best. I will never forget you!” said Brian. “For a second there I thought you were crazy.”

“I agree,” I said. “I think I’ll have that disgusting beer after all.”

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