i am writing a thing kind of

here is a preview

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Henry Lau owned one too many pairs of pants.

He had the blue jeans with the big leather patch next to the belt loop that read LEE, and the brown blue jeans that he didn’t really wear very much anymore, and then that one pair with the bursting seam on the inside of his thigh, and the weird ones that were manufactured to be wrinkled under the pockets, and the blue jeans which were really really blue, and the bell-bottomed ones that had strong creases on the front and back since forever, and of course the pair that was kind of purplish but looked more Indigo with some kind of leopard print that might’ve been a jaguar print or cheetah print but he didn’t really know. Henry Lau wasn’t fussy about his pants, like any normal person, and like any normal person could identify each pair just by the pattern on and shape of the back pocket.

There was a problem with his pants that had little to do with what was nestled within them, believe it or not. He had one more pair of pants then he felt he needed or particularly liked. Henry didn’t keep things he didn’t need to. If his pants didn’t fit, he would get rid of them, but he had one more pair of pants that he didn’t get rid of. They fit, but they fit in the same way that a conductor’s hat fit on an accountant, or rather a conductor could sit in an office chair and could pull the little pedals under it but would only go up and down and he never would be able to make his seat chime or hoot. Henry owned one pair of pants that fit him but didn’t fit him. Henry wore those pants every single day.

The pants were just as long as pants should be but made of whatever fancy pants are made of. They don’t make fancy pants out of denim, but if they did Henry would definitely have no problem with his extra pants. He wore his comfortable but equally disconcerting pants every day because he was a waiter at one of those fancier cafés that didn’t hire people who only wore blue jeans, but nobody really hired people who only wear blue jeans unless those people are truckers and Henry definitely couldn’t fit in that kind of driver’s seat no matter how many pants he had.

Henry felt as if when he moved around the café with dishes or food or whatever in his hands his pants were moving as a separate entity kind of clouding around his legs and other parts. Nothing chafed or pulled or slipped too far down but he didn’t really have skin when he wore those pants. It was just him and his pants throughout his entire shift. At home he wouldn’t wear pants at all because he didn’t really particularly enjoy wearing pants and a shirt at the same time, but right now he was at work and he needed to stop thinking about taking off his pants and start taking orders. A tall java chip. Caramel kiss latte. Vanilla latte, whip, decaf, but do you have any mugs to put it in instead of those flimsy things, but that’s alright if you don’t, I brought one of my own just in case. We’d both like one of those mocha things, yeah, sure, tall, whatever that means. Kid’s cocoa and a cappuccino, Grande. I hope you take checks because I need a doppio and haven’t got a single dollar on me. Whatever the guy in the red is having, that looks really good. One of those little brown cake things will do, thanks, I don’t do coffee. Iced caramel, large, big, ravioli, whatever you call it. I’ll have whatever has a lot of caffeine, is under two hundered calories, and you can make really really fast, tall.

Coming right up.

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thats posted somewhere on my tumblr idk where but here have my tumblr i am attilasehun.tumblr.com enjoy my boring in blog ok i just reblo pretty pictures of idols and sometimes make text posts and also social justice so uh