Don’t Mind Me, I’m Just Wearing Crappy Jeans

Hello, my loyal readers, enjoying this cooler Israeli weather? Ain’t no doubt about it, winter is on its way in the Holy City. I’ve been feeling a draft myself although that could just be my unzipped pants. As you may have seen on my Facebook status a few weeks back, I wowed the crowd in Dallas with either my arsim jokes or my Wonder Twins underoos (not sure which). Thanks to the fashion wizards at Golf, I have not one but two pairs of jeans which like to come unzipped whenever they feel like it. That’s always good for the old ego, getting laughs with my pants down.

Since I have the daytime flexibility, I figured the time had come to get them fixed. Getting your zipper fixed on 2/3rds of your pants wardrobe is not really the kind of errand you want to put off for too long.

First date:
“I had a lovely time tonight.”
“What the…??? ZIP UP YOUR PANTS, YOU SICKO! I’M NOT THAT KIND OF GIRL!”
“****ing Golf.”

Don’t go anywhere, the fun’s just getting started.

Yeah. So I thought I might address that issue.

First stop: tailor at King George and Hillel Street. Here’s a basic summary of our conversation.

Me: “So the zipper on these jeans is terrible. How much to fix it?”
Customer Non-Service: “95 shekels each.”
Me: “Wow! That’s a lot. Why so much?”
CNS: “That’s the price!”
Me: “So why did this happen?”
CNS: “It happens!”
Me: “So how do explain my never having this problem in 30-however many years of wearing jeans?”
CNS: “Do you ever get a cold?”
Me: “Yeah, so?”
CNS: “Same thing.”

Ech omrim “was that a dream?”

Next place a few stores away.

Me: “My zipper doesn’t work, how much to fix it?”
Guy: “45 shekels each.”
Me: “WOW! The guy down the road wanted to charge me double.”
Guy: “He takes 100 shekels for everything.”
Me: “So why did this happen?”
Guy: (something about washing them…..something which apparently means rusty….)
Me: “Ok, so can I prevent this from happening again? I don’t want to fix it if I’m going to be back here in six months paying again.”

We go back and forth until the woman on the side overhears and says “Ma…ma…ma?”

Me: “I’m trying to understand why suddenly I’m having zipper problems after this never happened even once.”
Woman: “IT HAPPENS!”

Two weeks from now, in a courtroom….

Defense attorney: “Ehhh…Meester Lovitt, can you try to explain to me how these two stores just suddenly went up in flames?”

Me: “IT HAPPENS!”

Mom, I know what I want for Hanukkah after all. American jeans. Sorry, Golf. You’ve exposed me for the last time.

“Freichot and gentlemen of the jury, please hear me out…”
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