Dancing in the locker room against my will

Yesterday, I showered and got ready at my fitness club. After drying off and lotioning up, I headed out to get dressed. I’d brought jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. As I pulled the jeans out, I realized that they were freshly washed. This coupled with the fact that I haven’t worked out quite as much lately left me there to do the jeans dance in front of anyone in the locker room.
We all know what the jeans dance looks like. I think it was a Levi’s commercial from years back that made this move famous. If you’re lucky, you don’t do it often. At the very least, you don’t need to perform the ritual of the shimmy, squat, squat, pull and suck to button , in front of anyone but your spouse or significant other. I remember a friend of mine sharing her fitness goal with me. “ I just want to be able to fit into my jeans when they are fresh out of the dryer.” The drier can steal a half a size away from you. It is a known fact. In order to get that real-estate back and your butt comfortable, gotta stretch those suckers out.
I faced two decisions, a. swallow my pride and do the jean dance in front of the tiny teenage who was methodically straightening her hair a few feet away from me or b. put my sweaty bicycle shorts back on and just change at home. While I pondered my choices, the slight smell of burning hair and the swirled under my nose as the girl continued to primp. Suddenly, her phone jangled to the tune of a rap song I’d never heard of in my life. After checking to see who it was, she promptly turned it off. Her parents I bet.
My gross shorts trumped my pride. I opted for the jeans. Trying to be as blasé as possible, I slowly pulled and pranced about, yanking my jeans up in a completely ineffective way. My careful consideration of my pants as I put them on seemed to say, “Oh yeah, these jeans, they fit. They just do this sometimes, shrink that is. No biggie. I’m cool.” Normally this process occurs swiftly, like ripping off a bandaide. I yank them up and fall into three quick squats and bam, you’re done.
The girl looked at me out of the corner of her eye from the mirror on the wall. I could see her thinking, “ I see you know. God, I would never do that in public!” Yeah I know, I thought. You and your skinny butt with your rapping phone and your hair straightener, you do your dance at home or not at all. Next time, I’ll either bring my fat jeans, or only pack these jeans on the second day of wearing them.