(More from Carrot Ranch, link below. I did know a person nicknamed Tommy Disco. He was a local character who used to spin records at one of the downtown bars until he moved away because he got priced out of Santa Cruz, a common occurrence here. I heard he moved up north to some logging town where he gathered a new following. It’s intriguing to think back on people you used to know but lost track of, and wonder what they’re doing now.)
Tommy Disco strutted into a downtown nightclub and high stepped through the crowd and onto the dance floor. All eyes were upon him, some of which got watery from the cloud of cologne he left in his path. He was sporting his best, button up, long sleeve shirt with a butterfly collar, a gold necklace, his snazziest patent leather shoes, and the tackiest, loudest boxer shorts ever made. Everyone else in the club were stunned by his appearance or doubled over in laughter.
“This is a dance off,” the DJ admonished, “not a pants off.”
“I know,” Tommy replied.
©2023 Robert Kirkendall
Robert Kirkendall 
Guess it’s better to start loose!
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Exactly! Pants just get in the way.
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Especially jeans.
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Yes! Jeans used to be all I wore but I haven’t owned a pair in years.
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(I do hope this doesn’t mean you’ve gone to boxers like your protagonist)
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I do wear other types of pants like khakis, trousers, and shorts, so I don’t walk around publicly with no pants. I also wear boxers, but not the tacky kind.
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😀
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