New York is always a bit more eventful when Jill is here than when she isn't. This time I thought I had prepared for her visit. But I should know better by now. You can never really prepare for her visits.

Jill was on her way to Prague to visit Jim and Jitka. She had everything she needed for her trip. Except one thing. A pair of jeans. So off we went to buy one.

On Fifth Avenue, we saw exactly what we were looking for. At The Gap. We went in. But we were informed that it was a men's store. I was really annoyed about that. You can't tell the difference between a men's store and a women's store anymore. I don't like not being able to tell the difference. Especially as I always insist to Jill that there's no such thing as unisex. Because men and women are too different.

Right next door was The Banana Republic. We went in. I looked around, and I was really annoyed again. The Banana Republic was far too unisex to be able to tell whether the store was for men or women. We had to ask. It turned out to be for both.

After picking up some tops, Jill located the jeans section and selected an armload. Then we went into the fitting room to check everything out.

The tops were fine. But she didn't like the way most of the jeans fit. I agreed. I liked only one pair. She put it aside to consider. She tried on all the others, which were all too large. She took the last pair and wiggled into it. She liked it. She especially liked the way the legs fit. She tried to button the fly. But she couldn't. The waist was too snug. She tried some more. She still couldn't. Buttoning these jeans would definitely be a challenge.

Fortunately, Jill likes challenges. And she doesn't give up easily, either. So she wasn't about to give up on these jeans. She wiggled and wiggled. She tugged and tugged. Then she wiggled and tugged some more. After lots of wiggling and lots of tugging, she almost succeeded in getting the two sides of the fly together. One of the buttons almost came close to one of the buttonholes. And then the button wouldn't fit in.

By now, Jill's fingers were very sore from all that tugging. Her fingers were losing circulation and turning white from all that tugging. Her hands were starting to hurt. Her arms were aching. And she still hadn't buttoned the fly.

I surveyed the situation. I decided this challenge could take an awfully long time. It was also getting painful to watch. With her fingers turning white and all. I decided not to watch anymore. "I'll go pay for the clothes you're taking," I said. "Meet me on line when you're ready."

I stood patiently on line with the clothes and it was finally my turn to pay. But Jill had never shown up. I headed back to the dressing room to find out what had happened. Even though I wasn't sure I wanted to know. There was Jill. And, sure enough, the jeans were on and buttoned. Jill looked exhausted.

"I can't get them off," she said. "I can't unbutton them. And I can't keep trying, anymore, either. My hands hurt too much."

So we conferred on the matter. We decided that under the circumstances there was only one thing to do. We would buy the jeans with her in them. She'd try to get them off when she got home. Then we'd return them.

But once we got home and Jill looked at them, she decided that she really liked how they fit. I had to admit she was right. They looked great! They had loosened up during the walk.

So Jill kept the jeans, and she wore them to Prague. They were the only thing she wore the entire time she was there, she said. Jim and Jitka don't dress up.

They didn't have hot water, either. And Jill slept alongside their dog. Who sometimes had ticks.

So Jill returned from Prague with a bad cough. And a big pink rash on her thigh. We spent the next few days in New York going from doctor to doctor. To check out the cough and to see what the rash was. Maybe lyme disease. Maybe not. Maybe an allergic reaction. Maybe not.

Jill soon recovered, and it all ended well. But that's what I mean. New York is always a bit more eventful when Jill is around.

And no matter how you try to prepare for her visit, you never really can.

July, 1998
BB