Am I "That Guy"?

I enjoy casual wear. If all goes right with the plans for my life I may never wear a tie again. And no item of casual wear is of greater joy to me than the t-shirt. The t-shirt comes in a variety of colors and designs. Despite its simple form, there exists a wide enough array to wear a distinctly different t-shirt each day of the week.

That being said, I am not the type of guy to wear outrageous or provocative t-shirts. No bad language or shocking commentary. Yes, I have been known to wear politically charged t-shirt or two, but nothing I believe that would be in bad taste. Especially since having a child. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever really been a provocative or controversial person. I was never a ladies man, player, pimp, or stud. Never a scalawag or hell-raiser. I don’t even think I could be classified as a ne’er-do-well or rabble-rouser. But anyways.

A few months ago I went ahead and ordered a few new t-shirts online from Champs, mostly because I was tired of my old ones. I bought a Redskins t-shirt to support the new home team, a Twins t-shirt to support the old home team, and I bought an interesting Adidas t-shirt that was on sale. The Adidas t-shirt was a bright yellow shirt with the Adidas logo in black scribbles on the front. Nothing too great, but I thought it was a fun bright color, and as I said, it was on sale.

A day later I received a confirmation email for my order. Reading through it I was confused as the Adidas shirt order read “Adidas-T, Ladies: Yellow”. Had I inadvertently ordered a ladies t-shirt for myself? That would be embarrassing. I told my wife what had happened, and informed her she may be the new proud owner of a yellow Adidas t-shirt.

A couple days later the shirts arrived to my great excitement. I tore through the box to revel in my new attire. The size of the Adidas shirt made it apparent that it was not a ladies shirt. After sending the shirts through the wash, I added them to the regular wardrobe rotation. I proudly sported each of the t-shirts of its chosen day. These shirts were worn to the stores, restaurants, and of course my frequent trips to the grocery store with my daughter.

After several wearings, I decided the Adidas t-shirt was too bright for “formal” wear, and so I decided to wear it to the gym one day. Now the gym I attend is more of a family gym of husbands and wives. Not really a meat market type gym. And being my normal anti-social self, I don’t usually talk to anyone at the gym, so I didn’t get to ask if anyone liked my shirt.

After making it through another wash cycle, the Adidas shirt again made an appearance on a weekday morning when I had to make one of my many journeys to the grocery store. Of course my daughter was in-tow as usual, being held in my arm. After gathering our few items we headed to the check out where my daughter’s fan club of grocery store clerks were waiting. This store has about three or four middle-aged ladies that adore my daughter and come to oooo and ahhhh at her every time we’re there. So these ladies gathered around to wave and pinch cheeks while my daughter shyly laid her head on my shoulder. We chatted for a few minutes, after which I headed home with groceries and daughter in tow.

Upon arriving home we headed upstairs to see my wife. My daughter went to play with my wife, and I stood around assessing what had to be done today. My wife then turned to me and asked, “What’s on your shirt?” I looked down expecting to see a stain or something, but nothing. “What?” “The black logo, what is it?” “It’s just black scribbles.” “No it’s not.”

I looked down at the black logo, focusing and re-focusing my eyes, as if trying to see the image in a magic-eye picture. Suddenly it came into focus. And horror swept over me. The black scribble logo was actually hundreds of small black silhouettes of naked women in provocative poses. What had I done?

The outings to restaurants and shopping malls, the gym… THE LADIES AT THE GROCERY STORE! WAIT!!! I’M NOT THAT GUY!!!!

My wife rolled with laughter as I recounted all the places I had visited wearing the t-shirt. We finally realized “Ladies” did not indicate the intended wearer of the shirt, but the subject of the shirt, the computer screen just hadn’t been big enough to show what the small scribbles were. How I failed to see it the numerous times I wore the shirt out, I still don’t know.

The horror of wearing that shirt took a few days to wear off to the point that I can now laugh about it. I keep the shirt in my closet now. Partly for the story, partly for the irony of me wearing that kind of a shirt. Will it ever make an appearance again? Doubtful.

As for the grocery store ladies. Whether they ever realized what was on the shirt I don’t know. Maybe they were like me and just didn’t notice it. Or maybe they just figured I’m “that guy” and I would be “that dad” and it was just too bad for my daughter. Which it is, I’ll never know, because there is no way I’m going to ask them, “Did you see my shirt?”