There Oughta Be A Law!

It was the July 4th, 2008. It was a sunny day, the kind of day you have to wear sunglasses because there isn’t a cloud in the sky. It was the kind of day when you are glad to be an American surrounded by friends and family. It was a day that the Gangolfs will never forget.

It started off pleasant enough, a back-yard barbecue with music and fun. My children were eating hot dogs at the time, enjoying themselves, not hurting anyone. Then it happened. Now the next series of events, is hard to talk about. My eldest daughter who was 7 at the time is still in therapy, but I think this is topic that needs to be discussed.

Uncle Bob, who is not really related, having played some horse shoes, got hot. He then proceeded to…. take off his shirt. Uncle Bob is an older man, with a big belly, hair on his back, a farmers tan and man boobs. He was seated next to my kids telling some story while his big sweaty belly skimmed the picnic table. He bit into his hot dog and the relish dripped onto his ample belly which didn't seem to phase him in the slightest.

You would think that was bad enough, but it was about to get worse. He turned suddenly and leaned over to grab a fresh beer from the cooler, his plumbers butt peaking out of his cut off Levis now in clear view of all who were unlucky enough to be in close proximity. My children were.

My beautiful, innocent, precious children were front row for this horrific event. Ava, the youngest, was the first to notice this gruesome scene unfolding right in front of her angelic eyes. She looked at me longingly, her soul screaming for help, but she was out of my grasp. Joey, my 5 year old, just stood like a deer in the headlights, not knowing if he should run or hide. But it was my oldest, my poor precious darling, who was the closest and got the blunt of this cruel twist of fate. She was inches from Uncle Bob’s, bare, sweaty, fully exposed, hairy back with the plumber's butt along for the ride.

She sat, hot dog in hand, helpless and overcome from the sheer horror of what was happening. She then started to laugh, hysterically. I mean, hysterically. I did what any mother would. I grabbed her. I shielded her eyes. I held her close to me. I kept saying “It is going to be okay,” over and over, into her ear. But it was never going to be okay again. The damage was done. There are some things you never forget, there are some things that can never be undone, there are some things you can not un-see.

Seriously though, I can’t believe this is still a thing. Why the heck, are grown men still walking around in public with no shirt. I hate to break it to you guys, chicks don't dig it. I mean, some guys just shouldn’t because they are old, over weight and out of shape. I have to say even to the good looking, muscly, young guys, I would rather not see it. I think I speak for many women out there, I would rather imagine what is under the shirt, than actually see it.

Hey Neighbor. It is just so wrong. Put on a shirt.

Now, I am not a prude or anything and there is a time and a place for a guy not to wear a shirt, like on the beach or, um, I don't know, in your house. I really would prefer to take my dog for a walk, drive around the neighborhood or go to a barbecue without seeing your man nipples. Yes, I said it. I went there. Somebody has to. It just seems that every time I leave the house, I run into some guy mowing his lawn, standing in his drive way or doing some other random task with out a shirt. I beg you. For the love of god and all things holy. Put on a t-shirt , a tank top, a polo, a jersey, anything.

Dude. Stop. I implore you. Put on a shirt.

So in conclusion, please, pass a law that men must wear shirts in public. I am imploring our legislative government with the fiduciary power to bring this to the floor of any governing agency within the sound of my voice. Please make it mandatory for all men, everywhere, to wear a shirt. Please, for the good of the children. Think of the children.

Vlad, for all that is holy. Put on a shirt.

And BTW, the story of Uncle Bob is true, although I have changed his name, so I don’t embarrass him. The Gangolfs still laugh about this incident and probably always will.

P.S. Any such law will not apply to Zac Efron. Repeat, Zac Efron will not be included in this law. Thank you.

Please like this story because Melanie Gangolf has low self esteem and is using "likes" as a replacement for actual success and love.

You can find Melanie Gangolf on facebook or probably in line at the local Food For Less where she spends 90% of her time.