*my boyfriend's back, and there's gonna be trouble*

so i'm talking with my good friend, Lana, about how a friend/co-worker/married man wants to take me for a ride on his motorcycle. but the problem is that i'd wanted to wear a skirt to work tomorrow. first-day-new-clothes type of mentality going on, i guess.

but you can't wear a skirt on the back of a married man's motorcycle now, can you? i'm thinking no. especially when you are spied growling off out of the parking lot by the school socialites. they've already been talking.

"so i guess i could wear pants, huh, Lana?"

"um, yeah. wear the fucking pants and tell me all about your ride on his bike. he just wants to go fast so you have to hold on to him all tight." She smirked at me.

"umm, gross. it's just a ride. but i'm actually really scared of motorcycles," i say indecisively.

"oh, no! i love them! they're so much fun, especially when they go on turns and you have to lean over and stuff," she smiled.

"eh...i don't know"

"jesus christ. you jumped out of a goddamn plane. stop being a fucking baby."

she has me there. though, that excuse, i now realize, can be applied to many more scenarios; obscenity and risk are all now pale in comparison.

so i guess i'm wearing pants tomorrow.