Stories from the Red Chair: Shaving

I was at a department store, accompanying a friend for some tableware shopping. As she was getting the plates she wanted, my friend Fernando and I waited around, chatting.

He pointed out my makeshift belt and I explained that it was a black sash I had pulled out of another outfit.

“I need it because my pants would fall off if I didn’t.”

As a reflex action, Fernando grabbed the bottom of my tee to look at my pants. Unbeknownst to me, I had not adjusted my belt and so my pants hung a little lower than lower.

And so did my underwear.

“Geez Fumiko!” exclaimed Fernando. “Couldn’t you at least shave?”

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