As life gets busier and increasingly filled with distractions, I find myself ignoring some basics that everyone else might consider routine. It’s not entirely a new problem, but more and more I find myself putting on t-shirts and rugby shirts and anything else in the pullover category inside-out.
I would think inside-out is better than backwards. When I reach that stage, I guess you should lock me up. But it’s just not part of my thought process to say, “Are you sure you haven’t put that on the wrong way?” As long as I’ve shaved, brushed my teeth and am relatively certain my hair isn’t sticking up like some failed Mohawk style, I leave the house. I would spend more time looking in a mirror, but as I’ve noted here before, I’m having a bad hair life, which precluded my career as a Pentecostal minister.
So on Sunday, I ventured out to church. I found a seat in the third row. And I’m not short. And the particular shirt had not one, but three tags. All of which were sticking out. All of to which I was oblivious. After the service I hung out in the lobby socializing people until well into the second service. And then I ventured over to the church where my wife and son were.
“Do you know your shirt is on inside-out?” my wife asked.
Why would she ask that? Of course I didn’t know. Maybe it wasn’t interrogative. She tends to practice an economy of words.
I quickly ran into the little room they use to count the offering, and did a partial striptease, hoping no one would walk in. In my haste, I popped the button on the shirt, and then spent several minutes crawling on the floor looking for it.
So why don’t people tell you these things?
If a man in your church who you know (at least by name) was walking around with the zipper on his pants undone, would you tell him? In that instance, should a man be told by another man or is it okay for a woman to mention it? Isn’t it better to know and deal with it quickly rather than be oblivious?
Years ago, there was another instance in the same church where a woman walked out of the ladies restroom with a piece of toilet paper stuck to her shoe. Nobody told her until either my wife or myself thought she should know. Why did other people hesitate?
I can only hope the answer to that question is that they simply weren’t perceptive, just as I hope my fashion transgression went by unnoticed, or was simply written off as some new style where the name brand tag appears — as it does sometimes now — on the outside.
Or that they simply think I’m an idiot, and there’s no point in mentioning that.
If you see your brother standing in the church lobby with his shirt on backwards or inside-out or his zipper down, set down your coffee and go to him immediately, before he maketh a fool of himself. (can’t remember the exact reference, but I’m sure it’s in the Bible)
Inspired by this, our friends at Flagrant Regard (see comments section) made this meme: