More Pants

I posted a thing on xmas eve about how I'd noticed a strange smell, and how I eventually figured out that it was my trousers, which I'd picked up from the cleaners a couple of days earlier.

Bizarrely enough, the dry cleaners called me yesterday and left a message on my phone asking whether I'd in fact picked up my pants. I couldn't resist - I called them. I told the woman there that I had picked up my pants after all; she then asked me whether I was sure I'd picked up the right pants. I said they were - they're a little tighter than when I left Sydney a couple weeks ago but definitely my pants. I hung up.

Now I'm thinking. There's been some mixup, they think I got the pants that were meant for someone else. And my pants had an odd, chemically smell. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? I should rinse them out and then drink the water, they must be impregnated with cocaine. Or at the very least, wet them a bit and suck them. In the movie version of this there'd be shadowy hitmen willing to risk anything to get the pants back.

I'll report back.