Michael Northrop

So I walked like three long avenue blocks with my fly wide open today. I finally realized it in the middle of a jam-packed Worldwide Plaza. Did anyone see? Please: The better question might be did anyone not. Which begs the question: Is it too much to ask for a quick “XYZ” (eXamine Your Zipper)? A neighborly “Barn door’s open”?



When I was a kid, we would trip over ourselves to tell someone their fly was open. Some poor kid would wander into the classroom at half mast and three kids would blurt it out at once. And it seems like it happened a lot back then: open flies, untied shoes, you name it . . . I think it just takes a while for that kind of buttoning up to become good and habitual.

So maybe we’re out of practice letting each other know. Or maybe NYC is too anonymous a place for that kind of verbal assist. Or maybe everyone just assumed an open fly was the new fashion (it’s really no stranger than low-slung pants or Ugg boots). I’m not sure. All I know is that it was a little drafty there for a few blocks this afternoon. And that spring is here; it’s not the kind of mistake you’d make in the winter.
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