Zippy (not his real name) is an old, old friend. Since Hallow(not)ween is upon us I remembered a party we were at a number of years ago. Zippy had chosen a 1970's Mick Jagger look (rent the movie "Performance"), complete with eye paint up above his eyebrows and some silky pajama type outfit.
He had had a couple of beers and was having a good time. He was talking to a nice young lady who was sitting on the couch -- he was standing -- in other words, her face was about at his pants belt level.
Now, Zippy was not fond of wearing underwear, and on top of that let's just say he would be the envy of many men in the endowment department. While he was talking to this young lady the safety pin that held is silk pants on came undone and they ended up around his ankles.
Not missing a beat in the conversation the young lady reached down, slid them back up, and refastened the pin.
Later that evening he wanted to drive to his girlfiend's, but I vetoed that as he had more beer than was wise. I took his car keys, but I was pretty sure he had another set.
So, unknown to him I liberated the distributor cap from his car. And later that night as he tried to start the car with his spare set he cursed me many times.