I was at the local fancy produce market one afternoon, pretending to be fancy knowing all the while that I grew up strictly on canned vegetables that were cranked up to a boil, when a man wearing a dirty t-shirt, plaid flannel pajama pants, and bedroom slippers walked past me on his way to the herbs. You know, like it was a normal thing he was doing: inspecting the sage, rosemary, and thyme in his jam-jams.
A grown man. In public. In pajamas.
It reminded me of a certain woman who works on the same floor as me at my conservative office building. A certain woman who wears big, fuzzy bedroom slippers from her office all the way down the shared corridor and into the public restroom.
If you check under the stall to see if one’s available, you’ll often see her big, fuzzy bedroom slippers right there, two inches from the public toilet.
I mean, you have to hand it to her. This is such a great way to pick up all of the stuff that’s lurking on a public restroom floor and track it everywhere afterwards like the freaking E-Coli-ster Bunny. It’s like a one-stop-shop for all your bacteria needs!
I’ve taken to calling her “Toilet Swiffer Woman”. If you need to call the CDC on her and they ask for a description, just say that she’s a brunette, about 5’6″, 130 pounds, and has public toilet germs crawling all over her fuzzy-wuzzies.
To be fair, I’m sure those slippers probably come in real handy for when you need to do lab experiments on the fly at your desk and don’t have a bucket of deadly pathogens nearby. Just take off your Toilet Swiffer slippers and give ‘em a shake over that petri dish and finally get to the bottom of that Cholera problem! Easy peasy!
Which reminds me. If we’re talking about describing something that’s easy, it’s easier to just say the word “easy”. You can feel free to leave off the “peasy”.
And I’ll tell you what you can definitely leave off: “Lemon squeezy”.
I swear to Maude the next time I hear someone say, “Easy peasy lemon squeezy!” I will not be held responsible for my actions. JUST SAY “EASY”.
I tried to give Toilet Swiffer Woman the benefit of the doubt the first time I saw her – maybe she was just breaking in a new pair of terrible high heels and her feet were all sliced up or something. At least some attempt at a reason.
She wears those Toilet Swiffer slippers every single day – and I saw her regular shoes one day when she was leaving the building and they were ADORABLE fancy designer leopard-print ballet flats. They were so cute I wanted to knock her down in the parking lot and steal them off her feet, until I remembered that she spends most of the day ankle-deep in fuzzy poop-germ incubators.
Pajama Man and Toilet Swiffer Woman are just a small sampling of the much larger problem at hand here. I can’t tell you how many people I see out in daily life wearing pajamas and bedroom slippers in public, and I’m here to tell you something about it.
I’m tired of this hoozle-dizzle, people.
Put on some real clothes.
Your public pajamas are a far too visible sign that the fabric of society is unraveling. Like I need a reminder! And those pajamas are probably filthy, too, because who the hell washes pajamas every time they wear them? Maniacs?! I once wore a Nirvana tour shirt as a pajama top for two months straight without washing it, until my skin oils actually ate through the fabric like moths. I will out-lazy and out-filth you in private any day of the week, so don’t even try me.
I don’t care if you’re “But I’m cooooomfortable!!!” in your pajamas. I own plenty of articles of clothing that are really, super soft and comfortable, that are also not actual pajamas.
I’m not saying go put on a suit. I’m not advocating for the reintroduction of hoop skirts and steel-boned corsets. Pinchy-waistbands can 100% go eat a wiener, as can those pointy-toed, narrow shoes that feel like actual torture devices. By all means. Be comfortable. Just put on something that’s not pajamas if you’re going to engage in daily public life.
We live in a society, you bedtime fashion derelict. Get it together.
And don’t even get me started on people who take their shoes off on an airplane and then put their BARE FEET on things. I was on a plane last year and turned around to find the woman behind me had taken off her shoes and wrapped her toes around my armrest like the paw on a clawfoot tub and it took everything I had to not ask the pilot to re-route us directly into the sun.