I'm returning some pants.
Lyra inspected the pants she wore with keen speculation like that of a jury. She stood up on her hind legs to get a better view of the light brown pants she was wearing.
She planned on flourishing the new pants to her Ponyville friends, as they were coming to give her and Bon-Bon a house-warming party in their newly acquired Manehatten apartment later in the evening.
Lyra, returning to all fours, poked her head all around as she inspected every angle of the pants; allowing her legs to become familiar with the shape and feel of the material. Pacing back and forth to grow accustom to their flow and drag, the sways, the rises and falls, as her face shifted from one scrunched with intrigue, to one of a dawning hope, and finally, to discontent.
There was something off about these pants. Something not quite right.
“Is something wrong with the pants?” Bon Bon chimed in after waiting in anticipation for her room-mates verdict on the new pants.
“Well...something just...isn’t right” Lyra replied indecisively.
“You don’t like them?” Bon-Bon inquired with passive concern.
“No, no! Lyra answered defensively. “They just don’t ... They just don't hug my frame like I imagined they would” she concluded.
“Well, do they fit?" Bon-Bon shrugged with one foreleg. "What size are they?”
“You know what? I think you’re right. I probably should have tried these on in the store first.” Lyra pondered.
“You didn’t try them on before you bought them!?” Bon Bon exclaimed in disbelief
“I’ve bought pants a hundred times before! I have a rough idea of what size I am! It’s these fan-dangled fashion stores with their ludicrous size charts!” answered Lyra. “This one says it’s a four! The other store claims the same pair is a five, the same pair in another store ‘fits waist sizes bla to bla’! The next one keeps you guessing by providing the helpful indication of S-M --What is that!?” Lyra testified in a fluster.
“That’s what the change rooms are for!” Bon-Bon threw her arms in exasperation.
“Ain’t nopony got time fo’ dat!” retorted Lyra with a dismissive hoof wave.
"Augh..."Bon-Bon facehoofed.
“...Well they still have the tags on, and you kept the receipt. If they don’t fit right, can’t you just return them?” said Bon-Bon, slowly becoming tired of Lyra’s long-winded thought processes.
It was obvious that the gears were turning in Lyra’s mind as she mulled over Bon-Bon’s suggestion.
“Yeah...Yeah, I will go return these pants! I’m tired of taking second best! This time- This time, I’m taking a stand!” Lyra declared with flustered maniacism as she marched her way right out the door. On her way out she leant her head back through the doorframe.
“It’s time to stick it to the man!” she exclaimed defiantly.
A moment or two later, a thought struck Bon-Bon.
“Shouldn’t you take the pants off first!?” Bon-Bon called out down the hallway.
But Lyra was already gone.
Any onlooking third party would think Bon-Bon was Lyra’s mother as she rolled her eyes with a smile and a gentle shake of the head.
***
Lyra tapped her hoof impatiently on the ground as she looked up at the timetable display and back down to her watch to check the time, again.
16:00
“If I hadn’t stopped for that crazy old lady on the mobility scooter, I would’ve made it!” she scolded quietly to herself. “But noooooooo, she just “couldn’t spend another minute in the rain.” She recalled mockingly. “Probably because she’d melt—” The overhead announcement system buzzed to life, interrupting her thoughts.
“Attention commuters, the 4:15 train to central will be delayed approximately forty-five minutes. The 4:15 train to central will be delayed approximately forty-five minutes.”
“Forty-Five minutes!?” she moaned. “That’s going to take forevuuur; I’ll never make it back in time.”
She quickly laid out all of her potential back-up plans in her mind to get to the store and back again in time for the party.
“I could take a taxi? You crazy!? I’m not made of money.”
“The bus? Hmm, I’m not very familiar with their schedule around here.”
“I could run back and see if I can just take the car...nah, that’d take just as long. The traffic here is like a crocodile: Dead still, yet merciless to the uneducated. And I’m not exactly used to inner-city roads.”
“...Forty-Five minutes isn’t THAT long, right? Maybe I should just bite the bullet and be late for the party.”
“Pfft, are you kidding? I bet I could walk there in less than forty-five minutes.”
“Of course! I could walk there in less than forty-five minutes!”
Lyra jumped up with a face of bold determination and took off with a sauntered stride for the department stores.
***
Lyra looked at her watch once again as she was beginning to make the awful realisation that: this may in fact take longer than forty-five minutes. She had been walking for thirty minutes already and was only just past halfway. And she still had to allow time to return the pants and make it back before the guests started arriving at five.
She noticed the crowd around her suddenly part like the red sea and she threw herself out of the path of yet another psychopathic pensioner on a mobility scooter.
“Stupid old people, stupid mobility scooters. Think they own the sidewalk. How many of them are there!?” She muttered under her breath as she continued through the rain polished busy streets of Manehatten.
“The streets seemed shorter from the apartment window” Lyra thought to herself.
As she looked out at the path ahead of her, she noticed a park. There were noticeably far fewer pedestrians; partly due to the earlier rain. It could provide her with a convenient shortcut around, what would otherwise be, a series of waits at intersection lights followed by time-consuming manoeuvring through a sea of fellow equestrian pedestrians.
She increased her pace and made a way for the park. She could now see the shops in the distance.
The little man had just turned green at the intersection.
She hurried across to catch the window in time.
“Made it!"
Over and into the park she galloped.
No time to take in the rare-admired beauty of the drenched foliage.
Past the play equipment
around the bend
down the corridor of oaks
over a small sandstone fence.
“The home stretch!” Lyra looked up at the shops ahead of her and down to her watch.
Ignorant to what was in front of her.
KA-SLOP
Lyra slipped and fell in the mud.
...Ruining the very pants she was about to return.
Author's Note
As you may have noticed, this is a ponified take of Kramer/Peiterman's story from Seinfeld: Season 8 Episode 14 - The Van Buren Boys.
=)
