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My story is pretty good, short (contrary to most of my posts today).
When I picked my wife up on our first date, her parents are real socialites, I felt like I was part of the family two minutes after I arrived. That was a Wednesday night.
Two days later (this is back in 1992) I pick my wife up for our second date. We head to a bar & I'm wearing my then-stylish white jeans (which were, OK, a "little" on the comfy side). We have a few drinks & I go to the bathroom. I'm zipping up & it breaks...my zipper has blown out, I'm wearing colored underwear (more info than many of you probably want, but there it is anyway) and I have absolutely no way to secure my pants. Add to that it's summertime, so I have no jacket to cover up either. I head out of the bathroom, mostly embarrassed but also ready to bust a gut laughing at myself.
I sit down across from my wife, whoever she was talking to goes away, and I explain the situation with her. I have to go home & change. So, we load up in the truck & drive to my house. My parents are both home, we walk in & I introduce my wife to my mom who is in the kitchen. My mom is wondering why I'm home at 9 on a Friday night & I explain that while we were out my zipper broke & I need to change. I'm sure my mom was wondering what the hell led up to the zipper breaking, and I'm pretty sure my wife knew what my mom was thinking.
Anyway, I would recommend a better way to introduce everyone than with a busted zipper. My wife & I still laugh about it today.
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