How I Got Into John McCain’s Pants

Well, it was this John W. McCain, and he wasn’t in them at the time. We were in Cincinnati for a dance weekend, the Pigtown Fling. That’s the same event that I mentioned last year when I didn’t go to the Creation Museum. I didn’t go there this time, either.

Pigtown Fling 2009

But how did I get into John McCain’s Pants? Well, dancing is hot work. It’s like doing aerobics or jogging, but with hot and cold hotter running women flowing through your arms all night. So by the end of the evening, I was quite het up. It didn’t occur to me to pull on long pants.

We drove to our hosts house in the rainy wee hours. (Short dashboard video of driving “home” to the tune of “Hello, I must be Going”)

As we arrived and cooled down, I discovered that I had left my long pants back at the gym. I’d get cold knees in the morning. After a couple of hours of conversation, I got a good night’s sleep. Note: At a dance weekend, anything over 4 hours is phenomenal.

In the morning I got up to shower. When I returned to my guest room, I spied a pair of unfamiliar slacks neatly lain at the foot of my bed. I’d had a visit from The Trouser Fairy! No host was in sight; he apparently returned to sleep in.

So I started my day in John McCain’s pants. They eerily reminded me of a pair I’d owned some years back. Who’d’a thunk that Big John wore nearly my size?

Here’s a video of our group dancing during Earth Hour, the next night.

 

Share

Dan Klarmann

A convoluted mind behind a curly face. A regular traveler, a science buff, and first generation American. Graying of hair, yet still verdant of mind. Lives in South St. Louis City. See his personal website for (too much) more.

This Post Has One Comment

  1. Avatar of Erich Vieth
    Erich Vieth

    Dan: Your strange dance rituals give me the heebie-jeebies. It appears that some alien has all the people linked to a powerful tractor-beam.

Leave a Reply