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Mystery Wardrobe: Jay's Journal

9:44 a.m.
What was I thinking waking up so early? I should have arranged it so that I woke up at 6:00 p.m.; maybe could have bought the dog some diapers to urinate in. But no. I just had to be a glutton for punishment. I fear this moment. Time to meet my clothing fate.

9:58 a.m.
I don't think these clothes were washed first. I need to Febreze the shit out them.

It's hard to pick out a pair of shoes to match the ensemble of someone who is obviously blind and/or whacko.

10:10 a.m. - Public Outing #1
I leashed Daisy for her morning walk. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, a car backed up in the parking lot. I leapt behind the staircase so the driver wouldn't see me, because I wasn't quite comfortable being out of the mystery wardrobe closet.

Dear Briarcliff Road, thanks for letting me cross you like a jackass.

Later during the walk, some lady opted to jog on the other side of the street rather than pass me. To whoever is responsible for pets loving you unconditionally... I could kiss you.

11:04 a.m.
I made breakfast. Egg and cheese bagel. And these clothes still really stink. I need to spray more Febreze.

12:00 p.m.
Patti and I had plans to go to the movies today. She casually said that she didn't feel like going anymore. "Is it because of what I'm wearing?" I asked. Her answer was, "Fine. I'll go into the theater five minutes before you."

2:16 p.m.
I wouldn't say that I'm hiding from the outside world necessarily. It's just that this outfit makes it so easy to stay inside. Also, I am so tired of wearing this diseased robe. Nice work, Jason.

2:50 p.m. - Public Outing #2
I went to the grocery store to pick up a couple of things (besides glances and snickers). My bagger took a picture of me near the front door, and I had the undivided attention of every cashier and customer at every checkout aisle. Their mouths smiled while their jaws dropped. I owned that store. I'm definitely getting used to this outfit. It's sort of liberating.

4:08 p.m.
Patti admitted that she didn't want to go to the movies with me because of my outfit. It's okay, because she knew to call herself an asshole for it. Yes, I am a model. But at what price, fame?

4:47 p.m.
The rules clearly state that I have to wear the outfit from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed. So naptime, here I come. I feel bad that I'm exploiting a loophole, but a little shuteye ought to put those feelings to rest. Heh. Puns.

6:02 p.m.
I'm awake again, and I'm not happy about it.

6:25 p.m.
My political platform has always been anti-fanny pack. But as I cooked dinner, I found a good use for it after all.

8:01 p.m.
What started as funny ha-ha has turned into funny weird. Every thirty minutes or so, Patti and I slip back into reality and say, "I can't believe you're/I'm still wearing that thing." And then it's back to the TV.

8:41 p.m.
I feel as filthy as I do ridiculous. I want to take a shower, but I'm not willing to get clean and then put this damn robe back on. Don't get me wrong; the robe is very comfortable (thank you, cotton/poly blend), but I'm convinced that Jason spent zero dollars on the robe because he went gravedigging.

9: 44 p.m.
T-shirt, shorts, and fanny pack, I've got no beef with you. You three are going in my closet and I'll see you next week. -- Robe, I'll see you at the crossroads.

 

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Issue #41: April Issues Bring Pant Showers
Issue #41