I don't know who said it. (Believe me I wish I could take credit for it.) But a few weeks ago, I was walking somewhere with someone, and a girl in front of us bent over for something. As she did, the obligatory inch was revealed. With Greek doom in his voice, the person at my side said, "Release the Kraken!"
Those words have been repeated, in my head or by my mouth, at least every other day since. It isn't just comedy gold. It creates a pleasant insulator, or buffer, between you and the people who have made Dan Akroyd's plumber sketch from the halcyon days of Saturday Night Live their fashion paradigm.
Some people are just innocent victims. And by saying (please don't forget the doom) Release the Kraken! when they bend over you can remind them, with the innocence that only Greek mythology can confer, that current fashions require a manoeuvre called the "Bunny Dip." Apparently, playboy bunnies have been doing this for years. If you must bend over, and your purpose is not to stoke the flames of passion, you bend at the knees, keeping the back perfectly straight. It was demonstrated to me by a hot friend in hip huggers. She coyly dropped a pencil and retrieved it without revealing a thing. At this point I learned something about myself: It turns out that the grace of the rigidly held back and the subsequent modesty was a much bigger turn on than the exposition of anatomy. She sensed my mental impropriety and demonstrated the "Golfer's Grab," wherein you lower one hand to the ground (ostensibly to retrieve your ball) by extending one of your legs straight behind you and keeping the other straight and firmly planted. It's an ergonomic masterpiece, and it lacks the sex appeal of the bunny dip.
The point is that there is no excuse. Everyone in the world can dip and grab no matter how low your pants are slung. I never have to see another butt crack in public.
But every time I do, I will avert my eyes, raise up the severed head of the Medusa, and be heard to utter: RELEASE THE KRAKEN!