Like many men on the underground weasel-boxing scene, I have to supplement my prize-fighting income with a fully paid job. Imagine my horror when, on a day when we were permitted to wear our own clothing, I was permanently sent home from work due to my attire. Having spent over a year making the outfit; it was safe to say, I was downright dis-pleased (apologies to any readers who were offended by my uncharacteristically foul language there).
I turned up late to work, as I normally do, believing that the dress down day would be the perfect opportunity to involve my colleagues in my hobby and demonstrate my exceptional talent for cross-stitch. My latest creation (and the offending outfit) from The Rummy Carumbo House of Erotic Fashion; was a figure-hugging pair of crotchless Sponge Bob Square Pants swimming trunks. I feel that this is a perfectly normal outfit for a sales environment and one which says ‘I’m approachable, yet professional’. I was shocked that it sparked such an over-reaction from management and was told a mere 4 hours into my shift that my clothing was “inappropriate”. I fail to see why this is the case: the crotchlessness provides me with the freshness I need in my Special Areas; while the waterproofing of the trunks means that I need not fear embarrassing sweat marks, as any dampness is quickly absorbed by the technologically advanced material.
As well as the many style and practicality benefits, Sponge Bob’s cheery face is more than enough to brighten up anyone’s day. Women regularly run into the nearest shop, screaming with excitement, to find a pair for their husbands when they see me walking down my local high street. Children also tend to burst into tears as I pass; clearly jealous of my Sponge Bob-endorsed pants, which make their Peppa Pig tracksuits look frumpy and out-dated.
I don’t believe that it was the quality of my work which resulted in me being asked to leave. When I held a fashion show for the people that I have locked in my basement; many remarked that the stitching was so fine that it made the Shroud of Turin look like a toddler’s arts-and-crafts project.
My only regret is that the piece is incredibly tight – it can take me over twenty minutes (longer if the weather is hot) to squeeze myself into the trunks, not to mention the fact that I cut my finger while making the hole in the front. By the time I’ve pulled them on, Sponge Bob’s perfectly-stitched face is barely recognisable and at times I’ve almost wondered if it was worth making the effort. It seems that the fast-paced world of toilet seat sales is just not ready for my high-fashion tastes.