So and So has a pair of black Dickies. A sweet cut--everything just right except they are getting old and fading. I've searched high and low--even a Dickies outlet in the bowels of Southern California. Nothing. I thought I saw a pair in the women's department at Sears, and even bought a pair. The cut was gay enough. They might have even been stretchy. But the lack of back pockets ended up being a deal breaker. Again. So I guess I wasn't lying at the check out when I said they were for my wife.
I thought the internet would save us all. The Dickies web site featured the very pair I had been seeking. The picture was beautiful. The text was poetic. But I clicked and clicked and could not order. Finally I went back to the phone age and dialed customer service. A very gracious Texan (props for not outsourcing to BFE overseas!) informed me that THE PANTS ARE NO LONGER AVAILABLE. "Then why are they on the site? It is to goad and mock me and turn my quest into a life souring failure?" She assured me it was nothing personal, and referred me to a pair of pants that might fit the bill.
But in this case, the beautiful picture and poetic texts were simply a ruse--which I only found out when the pants arrived by post and I tried them on. These were nothing like girl pants with pockets. At 3 PM I officially gave up hope.
Curse you, Dickies, for making the perfect pants just long enough for me to NOT be able to purchase them. Curse you for keeping the picture of the discontinued pants on your website just long enough for me to see them and almost hope to own a pair. Curse you for recommending a quality butter flavored alternative that looks edible but tastes nothing like the real thing.
Only Oprah can help me now: I envision myself in the pants. I feel the joy of owning several pair. I walk around the house pretending to catch the hotness of them in the mirror (not an easy task considering the kind of undergarments I wear--luckily, I don't get a lot of visitors).
Hear me Oprah: You promised me this would work. You promised me the pants of my dreams if I could only employ your secret.
I expect the pants before the end of the summer. Don't make me curse you.