On Saturday night, Matt and I went to the new Target store in Brooklyn. We also went to the nearby Old Navy, where I bought a pair of khaki shorts. They were right there on the front of a random rack of clothes — 31 waist, which is what I generally wear these days. I tried them on. They fit me well. I bought them.

The next day I was at Matt’s place. I got dressed, put on the shorts, and showed them off to Matt.

And he pointed out that the plastic security tag was still attached to them.

I was so annoyed. I’d finally gotten myself to buy a pair of new shorts and now I couldn’t wear them. I tried to detach the security tag myself, but I couldn’t. I’d obviously have to bring them back to an Old Navy store and have it removed.

So today after work I brought them to the Old Navy on 6th Avenue and 18th Street, along with the receipt. I took them out of the shopping bag and explained what had happened. No problem — the clerk detached the security tag, lickety split, and gave the shorts back to me. I put them back in the shopping bag. It was easier than I’d thought.

Then I took the subway down to Matt’s apartment.

After I emerged from the subway, I realized that I’d left the bag and the shorts on the train.

I’m thinking maybe I’m not meant to get a new pair of shorts.