My pants were on fire and my ass was catchin

Posted on February 18th, 2006 mitch  Print 1 comment

A funny thing happened to me last week.  What started out as a typical lunch with friends took a completely and unforeseen turn to the unbelievable.

It all started as I headed to lunch with three friends at one of our favorite eateries.

Not quite half way there, I noticed a rather warm sensation developing on my thighs and buttocks.  I found this to be quite surprising. While I must admit my thighs and buttocks have been known to become inflamed, it does not usually occur when I’m in an automobile with an outside temperature of forty degrees or so.

“What, oh what, could be the problem,” I thought.  Actually I was just a little bit more vocal than that – yelling out something to the effect of “What the hell’s going on!”  It turns out that I’m rather sensitive about my thighs and buttocks being abnormally warmed.  Oh well; live and learn.  Life is but an adventure.

Anyway, there were at least three separate conversations occurring at this moment.  All of which stopped when I became rather animated.

My very first thought was that my so-called friend, the owner of the vehicle, was attempting to kill me – albeit slowly and unusually.  All I could determine was that he had wired the battery to my seat in a vain attempt at electrocution. 

Either that or he had developed a “Fiendish Thingy” which relyed on Microwaves that were slowly but surely altering the chromostones of my yet unhatched offspring.

Either way, I was quickly becoming excitable.

About the time I was readying myself for a progeny-saving plunge out the truck door, it occurred to me that this was a fairly new vehicle and had all sorts of wonderful gadgets, features, and doo-dahs.

Still in my excited state, with my voice raised to the limit of hearing for dogs, Moms, and very small children, I shouted “Does this truck have a passenger-side seat-warmer?”  “Why, yes it does.” Came the answer.  “Is it on?” I queried.  “I don’t know.  Probably.” Was the response.  “Well how the hell do I turn it off?”  The instructions were provided, followed to the letter, and at long last the ambient temperature of my buttocks returned to normal.  Whew!

Lunch continued on as usual and though I have a fairly decent explanation of the event, I have yet to rule out an assassination attempt.  You just never can tell who your friends are these days.

Copyright © 2000 by Mitch Milam

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