Perception

Sometimes it’s difficult to distinguish between the real and the imagined. It becomes even more difficult under the influence of sense disorienting environments or substances – say being in the middle of a packed club with loud, booming music or alcohol. As for me, I have none of the above to attribute my most recent belief that my right leg may be longer than my left.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there is a significantly huge difference. There is no grotesque bent hunch; no dragging of the feet as I walk, But such things when noticed by someone who notices the wrinkles in saran-wrapping handiwork, can be a problem; a pre-occupation on slow days or most noticeably making way down any stretch of corridor or street.

I noticed that every time I buy pants from Uniqlo (imagine Japanese Gap) the lengths are never right. They always feel too short; and I’m just not the type of man who likes to flash a lot of ankle. Call me a prudish ankle-foot virgin or just a guy that feels it’s a fashion no-no; either way it’s deflating to one’s public image. Imagine being seated in front of a smiling beauty on the subway only to find out later that her mirth and merriment were not so much directed at one’s stunningly good looks but towards one’s bare ankles, and droopy mismatched socks. It would be a crushing blow to the ego to say the least.

Nevertheless, I either feel like a sailorman without a ship (sailors have short pants); a nerd without a Star Trek convention to congregate to (nerds have short pants); or Michael Jackson minus the white socks, magic white rhinestone glove and signature dance moves (MJ has short pants). Whether this is because of sub-par fabric quality and uneven shrinkage after washing, poor workmanship on the part of the person doing the alterations, the cross-eyed condition of the measurer of which I failed to notice or to my own distorted abilities of being able to accurately perceive length, I can not say.

So to combat this problem and to try to remove at least the alteration element from the list of possible causes, I bought a pair of pants “off the rack.” Granted, the pants were a little short but the sales assistant convinced me that they were, “Just size!” So I bought a pair of “Just Size” pants I already thought were not “just size.” Shame on me. (Hmm, perhaps this is the true origin of this short pant problem – listening to sales staff.) But to squeeze the lemon juice over the open wound, I found not only were the pants “just” a little short but the lengths were different! Egads, somebody give me a rubber bone to bite down on so I don’t swallow my own tongue.

How do I know that the pants are short and off kilter? I have asked at least three to four people on occasion in regards to me pants when I had the chance. It was with such feedback that one trusted compatriot, that I have only met about three times on occasion over a five month span, informed me of the pant leg discrepancy when asked for her honest fashion opinion. “Am I a dork or are these pants short?” Discrepancies as you know can drive people to the brink of insanity and beyond, maybe even as far as Surrey. Ask any accountant.

Ever since then, I have begun to collect supporting facts: the way my right leg sometimes trips up a little, or that it hits the pavement in stride once in a blue moon, or the strange sensation of feeling like a waddling penguin.

No matter I suppose if this is the new reality with which I must live with. Though more tests will need to be done to confirm the matter. Possibly, if I can figure out a way to attach a carpenter’s level on my belt, I may will finally be able to arrive at the real truth.