Found it!! The post I was looking for is in my earlier Toumai Blog, posted on February 4, 2010, For Adult Audience Only, here’s the excerpt:
This story goes back quite a few years… hmm, about 25 years ago. Sigh, I guess I should change the names of the people involved.
Okay, so George is a young man about 27 years old at the time. He should be mature, with two kids and all, but let’s just say he’s a bit of a late bloomer. George has worked on the same paving crew for a number of years and so all the guys are pretty familiar, except of course this new guy, Mike, who was only a few weeks on the job.
Of course being the new kid on the block, Mike is given the butt end of jobs— holder of the sign. Directing traffic is an important job albeit low on the totem pole. This particular early morning, the crew hadn’t started yet and traffic was pretty much nonexistent, but Mike, wanting to prove his eagerness and probably vieing for a promotion grabbed the sign and moved into position.
George happened to look over and saw that good ole faithful Mike was again at work before everyone else. This seemed to smack of too perfect of an opportunity for a red neck like George. With the stealth of a tiger George stalked over to poor unsuspecting Mike who stood back on, with sign diligently in hand. With a pounce, George grabbed Mike’s pants at the hips and gave a good solid yank. Now, George would later claim that he hadn’t expected that pant’s and underwear would come right down to Mike’s ankles… he was just aiming for a little ‘harmless’ butt crack.
After the dirty deed, George fled the scene immediately, laughing his fool head off as Mike, red faced looked down at his predickament— he was completely exposed for the entire world to see.
When George was a safe distance away, he glanced over his shoulder at Mike. His laugh turned to a voiceless gape as he looked on. There was Mike with sign still in hand, his pants and underwear wrapped around his ankles and two white as snow cheeks smiling out from the rubble.
“Hey you dumb arse,” George shouts, “pull up yer dam drawer’s before the traffic comes.
Mike didn’t say a word and nor did he make any move to pick up his dam drawers. Before long, the entire crew was abuzz and then along came the dude in the white helmet—the big honcho boss.
“What's with the standing around and laughing boy’s,” he says, “Cm'on, let's have at it!”
Then one of the guys points a finger in Mike’s direction. This time it’s the boss’s turn to have drop jaw.
“Well, what the Hell… hey Mike! Pull up you’re dam pants!”
Mike doesn’t turn around to address his boss and nor does he pull up his pants, but with matter of fact tone shouts, “I didn’t pull ‘em down and I ain’t gonna be the one to pull ‘em up!”
The boss’s face is red as he turns to the crew, “Okay, which one of you is the wise guy?”
All eyes turn to George who’s guffaw has simmered to a whiny whimper, “…well, er… uh… it was just a joke”.
" don’t want to hear it… just get your butt over there and pull up Mike’s pants."
"I’m not gonna pull up Mike’s pants!"
“If you don’t get over there and pull up Mike’s pants, you can pack it up and head on home… and hurry it up, there’s a car coming!”
With all the guys laughing, George rushes over, but the drawers were not as easy to pull up as they had been to pull down, and of course Mike would do absolutely nothing to cooperate. The job was excruciatingly humiliating for George, first he had to get down on his knees in order to unbuckle the belt, undo the snap and pull down the fly... all the while with...y'know, free willy dangling overhead. George knew, that if he didn't hurry, it would look really bad to the oncoming traffic. Then, up with the undy’s (being sure to take care not to touch the... merchandise), then up with the pants, zip, snap.
At this point the boss had sauntered over and seeing that George was about to leave with the job not quite finished, he intervened. “Just a minute there George, you’re forgetting something”.
George meanders sheepishly back over and buckles up Mike’s belt.
Poetic Justice... I could use some of that.
Okay, so George is a young man about 27 years old at the time. He should be mature, with two kids and all, but let’s just say he’s a bit of a late bloomer. George has worked on the same paving crew for a number of years and so all the guys are pretty familiar, except of course this new guy, Mike, who was only a few weeks on the job.
Of course being the new kid on the block, Mike is given the butt end of jobs— holder of the sign. Directing traffic is an important job albeit low on the totem pole. This particular early morning, the crew hadn’t started yet and traffic was pretty much nonexistent, but Mike, wanting to prove his eagerness and probably vieing for a promotion grabbed the sign and moved into position.
George happened to look over and saw that good ole faithful Mike was again at work before everyone else. This seemed to smack of too perfect of an opportunity for a red neck like George. With the stealth of a tiger George stalked over to poor unsuspecting Mike who stood back on, with sign diligently in hand. With a pounce, George grabbed Mike’s pants at the hips and gave a good solid yank. Now, George would later claim that he hadn’t expected that pant’s and underwear would come right down to Mike’s ankles… he was just aiming for a little ‘harmless’ butt crack.
After the dirty deed, George fled the scene immediately, laughing his fool head off as Mike, red faced looked down at his predickament— he was completely exposed for the entire world to see.
When George was a safe distance away, he glanced over his shoulder at Mike. His laugh turned to a voiceless gape as he looked on. There was Mike with sign still in hand, his pants and underwear wrapped around his ankles and two white as snow cheeks smiling out from the rubble.
“Hey you dumb arse,” George shouts, “pull up yer dam drawer’s before the traffic comes.
Mike didn’t say a word and nor did he make any move to pick up his dam drawers. Before long, the entire crew was abuzz and then along came the dude in the white helmet—the big honcho boss.
“What's with the standing around and laughing boy’s,” he says, “Cm'on, let's have at it!”
Then one of the guys points a finger in Mike’s direction. This time it’s the boss’s turn to have drop jaw.
“Well, what the Hell… hey Mike! Pull up you’re dam pants!”
Mike doesn’t turn around to address his boss and nor does he pull up his pants, but with matter of fact tone shouts, “I didn’t pull ‘em down and I ain’t gonna be the one to pull ‘em up!”
The boss’s face is red as he turns to the crew, “Okay, which one of you is the wise guy?”
All eyes turn to George who’s guffaw has simmered to a whiny whimper, “…well, er… uh… it was just a joke”.
" don’t want to hear it… just get your butt over there and pull up Mike’s pants."
"I’m not gonna pull up Mike’s pants!"
“If you don’t get over there and pull up Mike’s pants, you can pack it up and head on home… and hurry it up, there’s a car coming!”
With all the guys laughing, George rushes over, but the drawers were not as easy to pull up as they had been to pull down, and of course Mike would do absolutely nothing to cooperate. The job was excruciatingly humiliating for George, first he had to get down on his knees in order to unbuckle the belt, undo the snap and pull down the fly... all the while with...y'know, free willy dangling overhead. George knew, that if he didn't hurry, it would look really bad to the oncoming traffic. Then, up with the undy’s (being sure to take care not to touch the... merchandise), then up with the pants, zip, snap.
At this point the boss had sauntered over and seeing that George was about to leave with the job not quite finished, he intervened. “Just a minute there George, you’re forgetting something”.
George meanders sheepishly back over and buckles up Mike’s belt.
Poetic Justice... I could use some of that.
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