You say potato I say orgy

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It was a cold night in my friend's home high in the mountains of Western Massachusetts.  Martin Luther King Jr weekend had blessed our holiday hungover souls with a last inkling of rest and retreat.  Going away for the first time with the great guy I was seeing and two friends, Minosh (name has been changed for privacy), I had packed in a careful hurry AND having just given someone in my family my ONLY pair of straight leg yoga pants, my lounge wear was in… a desperate situation.  So, do you know what happened next? I packed as my only cozy bottoms a pair of hot pink and green Muppet printed fuzzy pajama pants I had received for Christmas, that are just short enough on me to look – a bit short on me. It was just a high water situation.In one of the bedrooms, I put the pants on and turned around to leave the room for the gang’s movie time.

“Whoa.” He blurted out.

I leaned in for a kiss and he pulled away, eyeing my lower half. The closer I leaned, the further he Gumby bent away from me.  As though I was a flame and he was a stick of wax.

He let me know why.

“It’s a little disturbing for me to see all these Kermit and Miss Piggy faces starring at me.”

His eyes were transfixed on my pants. I could not get him to look up.

I  tried to lighten the mood.

“Don't worry, it’s just like we’re having a Muppet orgy”.

Um, here is where I probably don’t need to tell you that I am not so great at mood lightening. “What!” He shouted, brows furrowed. So, I backtracked, raising a hand as if to say 'No, no, don't worry.  I'm on your side.'

“Wait no, we wouldn’t want that.  Because then just as things were starting to get hot and crazy, we’d hear the Swedish Chef scream out, ”Orgy schmorgy bugorgy!”

This is why I'm not in P.R.

 

-Em

City DatingEmi Soekawa