The Two-Belt Problem
I'm writing to make you all aware of the fact that I inadvertently wore two belts today, at the same time. My analysis of the mishap points to several measures and redundancies built into my morning routine that should have prevented the two-belt problem (hereafter TBP) but failed to do so. It is my hope that by articulating fully the problems that lead to the TBP I can identify areas in need of improvement and begin to develop personal protocols that will prevent any similar belt-related mishaps in the future.
Missed cues. Several visual and tactile cues could/should have drawn my attention to the TBP. My failure to respond to some cues was mitigated by other circumstances, as described. My oversight in other cases, however, is simply inexplicable.
Visual Cue #1. I had worn the pants I wore today briefly yesterday, and, since I had not sweat in them substantially or otherwise dirtied them, I simply slung them over the back of a chair last night, with the belt still in the belt loops, so I could wear them again today. I should have taken note of the fact that there was already a belt in the belt loops of the pants when I retrieved them from the back of the chair.
Tactile Cue #1. Upon putting the pants on and fastening the belt, I should have more deliberately and consciously made a mental note to myself: I am fastening my belt. The sheer routine of putting my pants on, which I do nearly every day, caused me to be careless.
Visual Cue #2. Before leaving for school to prepare the lecture for my 6pm class, I thought to myself: I am wearing a shirt that is not meant to be tucked in, but I should wear a belt nonetheless, because these pants are rather saggy in the bottom when worn in sansabelt fashion. I then went to the closet to look for the belt more or less designated as my default belt (hereafter DB). I specifically recall being somewhat surprised that I did not see the DB hanging from its designated hook in the closet. It did not occur to me at this time that the DB was already around my waist. I thus selected the fashionably ironic cowboy-style belt with my name embossed on it (hereafter FICSB). Normally I would avoid the FICSB while teaching; it can be distracting anyway, and I was scheduled to lecture on some very serious and decidedly non-ironic and non-cowboy-style music this evening. But, since I was wearing an un-tucked-style shirt, I thought the FICSB to be a safe selection, at least in the absence of the DB. I only include this much background detail to demonstrate the amount of belt-related thinking that went on without my realizing the TBP.
Tactile Cue #2. Upon looping the FICSB through the loops of my pants, I did take notice, albeit fleetingly, that there was slightly more resistance than normal (as if the belt were too wide or the loops too narrow--or, as was actually the case, too crowded). I should note, as mitigating factors, that a) the FICSB is of stiff enough leather that I usually thread it through the belt loops of my pants without actually touching the loops themselves, thus at this stage I did not actually touch the DB, and that b) because the shirt I was wearing is cut in the aforementioned un-tucked style, it obscured my view of both the DB and the FICSB. The added resistance, then, was the only cue at this point.
Tactile Cue #3. I distinctly recall feeling a bit more tubby than normal throughout the morning and early afternoon.
Tactile Cue #4. Due to various circumstances and distractions, I did not use the bathroom until approximately 4:30 pm; by that point I needed to relieve myself rather urgently. It is due to this urgency, perhaps, that I proceeded to unfasten both the FICSB and the DB as well as the fly of my pants, urinate, flush, and re-fasten my pants, all without noticing--even in the very act of unfastening the two belts in question, one immediately after the other--the TBP.
Visual Cue #3/Tactile Cue #5. While re-fastening the fly of my pants, I turned toward the sink and mirror. As I grasped the the DB and begin to buckle it, I noticed in my peripheral vision that the ends of another belt--the FICSB--were still protruding from beneath my (intentionally, as I mentioned) un-tucked shirt. After a brief moment of slight disorientation, I finally became fully aware of the TBP at this point. I consequently removed the FICSB, rolled it up, and held it close to my body so as to not draw attention as I walked back down the hallway to my office. I arrived there unnoticed, and hid the FISCB in my book bag.
Steps for Improvement. While obviously there is no completely failsafe method for preventing future TBPs, my analysis suggests the following preliminary steps, to be implemented immediately:
Every belt shall be hung on its designated hook each night; no belt shall be left overnight in chair-slung pants.
Special care shall be taken when wearing un-tucked shirts (and consideration will be given to not wearing un-tucked-style shirts at all on teaching days). The un-tucked shirttails obstructed my view of the TBP on at least one occasion, and my wife undoubtedly would have noticed the TBP sooner or later if my shirt had been tucked in.
Unnecessary postponement of bathroom visits shall be avoided. This will help in two ways: if bathroom visits are more frequent, any problem likely will be noticed sooner, and if they are less physiologically urgent and more leisurely, I will have more presence of mind with which to check for belt-related problems.
Considering the missed cues listed above, and the fact that it was the combination of feeling one belt in my hand while seeing another belt in the mirror that finally drew my attention to the problem, throughout the day I will institute periodic belt-checks involving both visual and tactile confirmation.
I will wear the FICSB only on very, very special occasions.
If you have any further suggestions, please feel free to submit them. I appreciate your support as I strive to overcome my belt-related challenges.