No Shorts Allowed

Last Thursday, Science Girl and I thought we would tackle the streets of Istanbul, attempting to hit up as many Turkish tourist destinations as possible. Slightly put off course by the seemingly imminent violent riots in the area, we found ourselves diverted to a deliciously appealing mosk. Upon entrance, we realized we were both dressed in shorts and clearly two slutty to be welcomed. How could we be so silly? We pondered. I remembered earlier in the day when we were picking out our most outrageous outfits.. "Ill wear shorts and runners if you do!?" we planned. How foolish we were. Determined to get in where we werent allowed, we scurried down the to market place, and purchased two pairs of matching sweat pants from the discount rack for 5 Turkish Lyras.. aka, free. We went back to the Mosk and put on our new pairs of pants in front of a distubringly large audience of onlooking tourists.. "Look at how frumpy we look!" cried Science Girl with bursting excitment. "I like the racing stripes'' I replied. We eagerly walked back up the marble steps to the mosk, feeling so delighted about how non-slutty we now were in our matching clothing, clearing purchased from the lice district. When we entered we were enraged to see the Mosk was under construction, and all there was to see was a white piece of dry wall with sketches of what "you would see" if it werent there. ''Well I guess we really didnt need the pants'' SG said with a defeated sigh. "Do you think the street man will let us return them?" I pondered.

Not to have the experience go to complete waste, we exited, and poceeded to put on a fashion show for our own cameras in front of the mosk..to show case the fantastic new/used wardrobe we had aquired. We then hit the cafe's for Cappy, aka Cherry juice, and some sort of vegetable dish which I have yet to learn the name of. We disrobed from our pants and tried to leave them behind on the table. Much to our disapointment, after we left and thought we had escaped them scott-free, a server caught up to us, returning the devil purchases. We both tried to act relived at their return, and sent him on his jolly way. "OK, maybe we need to find a trash bin?" I suggested... and so is the story of the sweatpants- which eventually hit the pavement.

B