Jeans Day

Jeans day, how did we ever fall for this? Mutter those two words in an office where the attire is business or business casual, and you’ll see a bunch of adults turn into salivating kids that can hear the ice cream man’s bell ringing blocks away. You work for a multi-million or billion dollar company, and the one sure fire perk they can occasionally offer, is to allow you to wear a pair of jeans. This some how makes up for the fact that you don’t get to spend time with your family and friends, or instead of playing golf you’re stuck in a cube, and you’re supposed to forget that you’re dream of driving cross country never came true. All because they were so grateful, that the only thing they could do to show you how much your blood, sweat and tears means, is to allow you to wear jeans.

What the hell is so great about jeans? They aren’t that much more comfortable than any other pair of pants, and they sure as shit aren’t cheaper any more. Is it because Fonzie wore jeans, sometimes jeans with holes, that we now thing they are the ultimate sign of rebellion? Are jeans a way to rebel? C’mon, that’s what you’re the wall paper on your monitor is for.

And then we get jeans on Fridays, because, well, my company just cares about us that much. It’s like we aren’t even working, because it’s the weekend, and I’m already wearing my weekend uniform. Except not really, they want us to wear nice shirts with the jeans. So we can look, like, well, we aren’t really wearing jeans. So I can’t wear my “Poker Players Love a Good Pair’ tee, and that’s fine, I can’t wear it at home anymore either. Amazing how things change when a kid learns how to read. Cosmo ends up upside down on the coffee table, or is only allowed in the restroom, and then I’m stuck reading it when I have to drop the kids off at the pool.

So if I’m feeling extra saucy, sometimes I’ll wear a vulgar tee shirt as an under shirt, and you know what, I don’t even need to wait for jeans day for that. Right now I could be wearing my “It’s Magically Delicous” tee under my button up. That’s just my way of telling my boss to, “suck it.”

Then they have the audacity to ask for donations for March of Dimes, and if we pony up, well then we can wear jeans for two, maybe even four weeks if you donate enough. And we can spot those cheap assholes, who obviously must hate kids, because they’re wearing slacks. Nice grade school psychology going on there, right up there with sitting at the cool table.

Jeans day is an insult, it’s that simple. I’m supposed to think this company cares more, because they allowed me to wear something I purchased and they wrote a rule against? Wow, they’re sure care about the employees. With such a willingness to bend the rules for is and all, I should never want to leave. What if my new employer didn’t allow such wonderful things as “wear different pants for a random day,” I’ll just feel so much more un-appreciated working for such a hateful company. Unless they pay me better, that always helps.