Dear Button-Fly,

I am terrible at being flexible. At social gatherings, it is inevitable that someone will throw down the “let’s see you do the splits” challenge. When it’s my turn to throw my figurative hat into the ring, I’m greeted with, “You’re still standing straight. Did you start yet?” only for me to nod in acknowledgement; the pain of the stretch hindering my ability to speak. It took some time but, I’ve finally come to grips with the reality that I may never pull off a Jean Claude Van Damme split while eating breakfast in my patio. Never gonna happen. I’m doomed to eat pancakes whilst in the cross legged position and I’m finally okay with that.

Let’s get to you, though. I may be as flexible as a tree stump but at least I have other things going for me. I mean, I know my way around the kitchen, can punch air to put candles out (so sweet), and consider myself to be an expert in light bulb changing (Illumination Device Operational Technician and Replacement Engineer is what it says on my business card). You however, are terrible at your primary reason for existence.

The standard zipper is fairly decent at closing the gap in one’s pant. Yes, there is some danger that comes along with the convenience but, as long as you’re not careless, all is well. With one quick pull, an individual is covered and off to wash their hands. With a button-fly, that is never the case. Now, I know you hate when we talk about visiting the ol’ water closet but it’s a part of life. With a button-fly, one can be almost certain that there will be extra handling required. This extraneous movement is what causes problems, mainly in the misconceptions that others may form while you struggle to wrap things up and move on with your day.

Peripheral vision is a great thing. On more than one occasion, I’ve had to stop myself from thinking I had superhuman vision to go along with some very impressive patellas. My knees are just gorgeous. Unfortunately, this ability can also be deceiving for those that have yet to master it. Imagine you were a budding hero, junior level peripheral skills in tow, and the person at the urinal next to you begins to tussle about for much longer is generally needed. Now, water closet etiquette prohibits one from looking directly at the situation so they’re left to assume that Mr. Fumbleweed, right next to him, may be indulging in a pants party fiesta, however brief it may be. Mr. Fumbleweed on the other hand, is simply having a bear of a time getting your buttons into the holes so he can get on with his day. Both eventually meet at the watering hole (the sink), inadvertently glance at one another, and proceed to live through the most awkward thirty seconds in the history of hand washing. All of this is thanks to you. With a traditional zipper, none of this would have happened.

You have a great personality, but I think it’s best if you just went away for a while (like forever). Let buttons concentrate on shirt and coat fashion trends and leave the pants industry to the zips. You can check in on things every once in while but please, stay retired. If you’re ever bored or hungry during your retirement, I make a mean potato pancake that we can both enjoy while watching Bloodsport.

Yours truly,

Adriel