Posted:Sorry, I had to test it to see if it worked.
I was curious this morning after pulling my fire pants out of the wash. Yes. I have fire pants. Pants which have specifically arisen out of my apparel for their rather savory nature. They're just oh-so comfy and perfect for fire. It wasn't until a few months after I'd started burning that I noticed that my fire pants had gas pumps on all of the metal snaps and embroidered onto the tag on the inside. Icing on the cake, baby.
It's not that I couldn't burn without them. It's not that they're safer than any other pair of pants in my closet. There's absolutely nothing examplary the fire pants. Just that they kind of kept coming up amid clean clothes on close to every burn night, until it became a sort of strange habit to seek them out on fire nights. I know I could burn in any other pair of pants, and I know that wearing them doesn't make the safety checks worthless. They just make me feel good before fire, really good, like putting on that last, special necklace before going out on an important date.
Like, I have a friend who, when he spins out excess fuel, always throws in one (*just one, nothing more nothing less) 360-weave to his left side once the poi where ready to go (*sometimes, I like to think of this as his polite way of telling me to get my ass in gear and break out the lighter).
Me, I've got a pair of pants that I set aside for fire. They're comfy, and I don't mind if, god forbid something happens, they get destroyed. I didn't realize it until recently that it was a quirk of mine to seek those pants out now.
My ex always kicked back and had a post-burn cigarette, like he had sex mid-burn and we missed it somehow.
My roommate, Beth, although she never spun, and we never let her anywhere near fire except for the trashcan fires, would always, and I mean always, come running up the stairs at the last minute and plop down on the trunk of my car, as though the Brave Little Toaster's cold, dented, metal was the best seat in the house, always with one coke and exactly three cigarettes.
Just, in retrospect, I started noticing these little quirks and wondered how many other people engaged in subtle things like this, or, really, how many other people would admit it.