No Pants Day

Yesterday, the feast of the Baptism of Christ, apparently was also “No Pants Day”. I knew it was the first because the priest said so during the Mass at Saint Peter’s R.C. church in Tribeca (less than 10 blocks from the World Trade Center site, I believe), where my fiancée Adrienne and I were, considering it for our wedding. We knew it was the second going uptown to Korea Town for dumplings on the 4 train because there was a man beside us in heavy-framed glasses, coat, jumper, chunky shoes and Y-fronts. His bag interfered with the door’s closing mechanism, and I quipped, “it must have been your undies.” He turned to me and smiled. Then we noticed that the subway car was sprinkled with underwear-wearers: some of the men were sporting spotty boxers, a green pair with white spots was particularly affecting, and some of the women were wearing their most spiffy undies that were more of a “short” than a pair of knickers. But, hats off to those who chose to wear their normal work-a-day pair, that were neither particularly sexy, nor protective. I know I would have worn boxers.

“No Pants Day” is organised by Improv Everywhere, “a New York City-based prank collective that causes scenes of chaos and joy in public places. “


Published by

David McBloglin

My name is David McLoghlin, I am the author of "Waiting for Saint Brendan and Other Poems" (Salmon Poetry, July 2012); I am an Irish poet, writer and literary translator, who currently lives in New York, and blogs about its vicissitudes, while not writing other things, like my 2nd collection. I moved to NYC in 2010 to study at NYU's MFA Program in Creative Writing, from which I graduated in 2012, two months before my book was published. Before moving to the US, I lived in Ireland, Spain, Belgium, France, the USA, and travelled in a variety of countries (including Morocco, Czechoslovakia (when it was that country), Paraguay, Uruguay, Argentina and Norway), whilst engaged in a number of pursuits. came about as a catch-all for impressions related to moving to NYC alone: culture shock, in essence, and all her ugly sisters.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s