I May Never Eat Pastrami Again

Here's a fashion trend I never understood – butt print pants. Why someone would go around with “juicy” or “dance” or a school's name printed across their bottoms I do not know. I hadn't really thought about it until this afternoon. I was walking along the sidewalk. In front of me, facing away, was an elderly woman. She looked to be in her eighties. She was taking tiny little steps with the help of her gray metal cane. As I got closer I noticed the writing. They were sparkly gold letters on the tan sweatpants. “Mike's,” it said on one octogenarian buttock, “Deli,” it said on the other.

There are some things that I am not meant to understand.