An open letter to the man living somewhere on the third floor in my apartment building.
You seem to be a very nice man. We have chatted several times in the elevator and while walking up the stairs. You are very polite, always hold the door open for me, and have intelligent things to say. I have suspicions that you are a member of the Russian Mafia as you drive a Mercedes Compressor AND an M Class SUV and live in a small somewhat nasty apartment building in Burnaby. You also have a ludicrous hair weave that nobody thinks is real. Nobody.
Now sir, I am not a fashion dictator. I understand that sometimes, one needs to wander downstairs to throw out the garbage in ones pyjamas. What Not To Wear isn't ALWAYS filming with hidden cameras and sometimes, you just need to be comfortable.
However sir, there is a limit to comfort.
Imagine my surprise when I got on to the elevator this morning and discovered you in your housecoat and aqua sox. AQUA SOX! HOUSECOAT! WHAT?
I was willing to let that slide and give you the benefit of the doubt. I was assuming you were heading to the garbage or recycling-there was no garbage evident, but maybe you were looking for something. However, when you turned toward the cars as I was and headed to your SUV I began to doubt that you were looking for your lost keys in amidst the detritus of our wee building. Perhaps you had just forgotten something in your car?
No... no...you had not.
You LEAPED into your car (and in the process revealed that you were not, in fact, wearing anything under your housecoat...AAAAAAAAAAAAA), turned it on, and DROVE AWAY! IN YOUR HOUSECOAT AND AQUA SOX! AND WEARING NOTHING UNDER YOUR HOUSECOAT! AAAAAAAA!
I didn't need to see that sir. I didn't need to see your wedding tackle. Your crown jewels. Your frank and beans. Any of it. It may have scarred me. It was a totally unexpected display of nudity and honestly sir...it wasn't...well...some people just shouldn't be nude. We'll just leave it at that.
I am concerned sir. It concerns me that you seem to think its okay to wander the streets in your housecoat. With no pants. Or underpants. In fact, wearing NOTHING resembling pants. It is not okay. It is not okay at all. You are not Nick Nolte. It wasn't okay for him either.
How hard is it to put on pants and a shirt? And appropriate footwear? Honestly, its not that difficult. I do it every day and I am NOT a morning person! I can barely even see when I leave the house, yet I am still DRESSED! I am not even asking for coordination-just common decency.
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY PUT ON SOME PANTS!
The now slightly scarred blonde from the second floor.