Hot buns.

Did I miss a memo or something? Was there some Doral-wide "Guys wear hotpants (Daisy dukes/short-shorts/coochie cutters) day" today? Moons over Miami or something?

Because if there was I did not get the memo. And I have a pair of shorty short shorts... from my '80s camp counselor Halloween costume. You know, that's the costume where shortly after I finished my summer associateship with a big downtown firm, I ran into several partners and associates of the firm, with my balls almost hanging out of my shorts on Lincoln Road? Classsssaay!

Yeah, those pants.

Anyhoo, two gentlemen I saw on TWO SEPARATE OCCASIONS TODAY must have gotten the memo.

I'm bummed I didn't get it. The Memo, that is. Sometimes it's nice to feel a cool breeze on the bottom of your cheeks... And I would LOVE to have seen the look on my boss's face if I showed up to my deposition this morning wearing a suit jacket that was longer than my bottom apparel.

GUY THE FIRST:

I thought it was slightly odd when a man walked into the Macaroni Grill (where I was picking up lunch for the office) in jean cut-offs that were so short, they showed off the bottom curve of his shapely arse. (I'm kidding, it wasn't all that shapely.)

I gawped, because, I mean... here was a 40-something guy, wearing a polo shirt, getting a table for one at the Macaroni Grill at prime lunch hour, with his junk about to make a guest appearance out of his left leg hole.

These pants were seriously, SERIOUSLY short. And they were legitimately cut like Daisy Dukes... on an angle from the crotch and EVERYTHING! They were shorter than running shorts for Chrissake!

I was so stunned, I couldn't even point him out to the other people around me (although I don't know how to say "hotpants" in Spanish, and "Oye! Mira ese hombre en pantalones cortitos!" doesn't have the same ring as "Check out the guy in Daisy Dukes!")

I was really impressed by the hostess who didn't drop her menus and her jaw... she lead Mister Tushie to his table. I should have grabbed my food and followed them just to hear the lunchtime murmuring of the rest of the restaurant about Cheeks McGee.

But... eh. I'm the jaded sort, and even though it was stare worthy, I forgot about it.

Until the drive home.

GUY THE SECOND

When, walking on 36th street was ANOTHER GUY wearing insanely, and inappropriately short shorts. I almost braked for this guy, because he was cute in that "I'm-a-German-Daddy" sort of way...

He was walking with some chick along that stretch of 36th street that probably abuts like 67th or something... that no-man's land where there's just the sound barrier walls of the airport... walking in broad, wide Cargo shorts that ended like 10 inches above his knee. I didn't get as good a gander at that guy, because, you know, I would have crashed, but seriously... TWO guys in hotpants, in basically the same neighborhood in ONE day?!

I gotta start checking my e-mail more. I'm missing out on AMAZING opportunities, apparently, to show off my furry little tail.