On the Fly

Today whilst dashing around at work (we've been busy busy lately), I suddenly felt a somewhat alarming sensation. There was a small popping feeling in the region of my waist-line, and then my pants felt looser. After that, I felt something round and hard slide down my leg.

I was wearing a pair of airy linen pants I've grown somewhat fond of lately. They are comfortable, but admittedly on the large side. They have a slight tendency to sag. When I realized that the button had just popped off (the threads had been working their way loose for a long time, I just hadn't gotten around to adding some newer, sturdier stitches), I wasn't quite sure what to do. I cautiously bent down, retrieved my button from the floor and slipped it in my pocket, no one the wiser. But I had a problem. My pants were not likely to stay on long without a button, and Nick was about to leave for Utah. Thus, the gallery was going to be in my hands alone for the rest of the day.

Luckily, I'd been patching a canvas so was wearing my apron, which covered any unsightly gapage for a while, but after Nick left, the sun began to shine more brightly into my room, and the air heated up. It was uncomfortably warm, not to mention the apron would do little to help in the actual moment of a pants-losing crisis.

So, there was nothing for it. I had to make repairs. Fortunately, among the many sundry tools kept on hand at my job, there is a needle and thread. I took these out of their drawer, threaded the needle and looked around suspiciously.

Now, the hard part. The problem with my workroom is that you cannot ever tell when someone is going to appear in the doorway. Also, since I was in charge of the gallery and answering the phone, I had to stay where potential customers could find me. I had to be ready to help choose a frame or pick out a piece of art the moment someone should need me. Like I said, work's been busy lately. It was likely I had very little time to act.

If you've never sewn a button onto pants you're actually wearing, I would recommend steering clear of the experience. It's tricky, and engenders all sorts of hazards, particularly if you are in a hurry.

Happily, you'll all be glad to know that I replaced the button, unscathed, before any customers arrived. I can't help but feel it was a close call, though. I only narrowly escaped ridicule of the kind usually only known in dreams. From now on, when I notice a loose button, I will respond a bit more proactively.