January 05, 2007

The traffic jam on the 401 stretched back for miles. Cars slithered across the wet asphalt in the spastic, angry glow of break-lights. All this was to be expected — traffic is always monstrous in Toronto. But the following three factors combined to this particular night even more special:
1. It was New Year’s Eve.
2. We were heading towards Dave’s “Snakes and Champagne” party.
3. My underwear were on too tight.

Under those circumstances, I did the only thing I could: I slowly unbuttoned my pants and crawled out of them. I say “slowly” because this process wasn’t easy. My van awkwardly lunged towards the rear bumper of the car in front each time I took my foot off the breaks.

“What are you doing?” Laura asked, somewhat taken aback. I had to explain to her the whole thing about the underwear.

After a solid 20 minutes of struggle, I was finally free from the confines of my underwear. Traffic jams are a lot more fun when you’re not wearing any pants, and the fun continued all the way to Dave’s house. There, I pulled up my pants, drank lots, watched snake movies, made out with Sean Gobi while discussing free trade, and played with my wee-wee until 5 o’clock in the morning. In other words, the Snakes and Champagne party was a smashing success (and yes, there are some photos to prove it).