Don’t look at me, I’m a nerd!

Hannah didn’t realize she was still wearing her sweatpants until she’d crossed the parking lot.

She froze in terror, knowing the hell she’d get the moment she stepped inside. All the excitement she’d felt on the drive over died.

For a moment, Hannah considered racing back home, but she already knew it was too late. With the loudest of sighs, she pulled her backpack onto her shoulder, straightened her ‘Best Cuts Steakhouse’ t-shirt and ugly gray sweatpants, and stepped inside.

The first snickers came as Hannah said hello to the hostesses.

That’s what you get for cosplaying before work, she thought miserably

The girls up front at least tried to hide their amusement at the lazy wardrobe. That couldn’t be said for the fellow employees sitting around the table at the far end of the bar section.

“Wow, so you’ve just given up completely, huh?” Robert said as Hannah approached. She responded with an annoyed look and a middle finger.

“Damn, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Robert held up his hands. “But it’s just… You look like a 70-year-old man about to watch golf from a La-Z-Boy.”

The table booths around the bar were usually the last to fill, making it the perfect place for the employees to hang before (and many times during) their shift.

Hannah sat down with another loud sigh. “I’ve already had a busy day,” she said. “I don’t need you making the dinner rush busier.”

“Don’t worry, Hannah. There’s nothing wrong with being comfortable.” Keith stood up from the opposite end of the booth, revealing an even dirtier pair of brown sweatpants. Hannah hoped they’d always been that color.

The line cook stretched out the waistband and let it snap back into place. “Mine are great! And they’re handy for a cook. No one cares about getting pants like this dirty.”

“Man…” Robert was shaking his head. “I’m on the line too. But how do your pants get so dirty anyways? We have aprons.”

After the briefest pause in history, Hannah added “Don’t answer that!” It didn’t help.

“It’s because I use them to store snacks!” Sure enough, Hannah watched with horror as Keith reached into his sweats and pulled out a crumpled bag of chips. Despite everyone’s disgust, he tucked the bag back inside, and returned to his seat.

“At least you’re not working right next to him all day,” Robert said. Hannah shivered at the thought.

Desperate to change topics, Hannah remembered the reason she’d been so excited, before the wardrobe mishaps.

“Robert, you know Comic Con is in town?” Hannah explained. “It… might be the reason for this.” She pointed to her ugly sweatpants. “I went dressed as gender-bent Sherlock Holmes, and in my rush to change before coming here, I put on pajama pants instead. Damn force-of-habit.”

“Of course, you go as Sherlock,” Robert said. “You and your damn detective stories.”

Hannah blushed. “I like solving things. But anyways, I signed up for a contest and I won!” She reached into the backpack and pulled out an old comic book, Amazing Spider-Man #129, wrapped in a protective plastic sheet.

Robert recognized the decades-old magazine immediately. “I’m so jealous! I’ve always wanted this issue.”

“Well, sucks to be you!” Hannah playfully stuck out her tongue. “It’s officially registered as mint condition, too. Worth over $2,000!”

“Damn!” both co-workers said in unison.

The front doors swung open as customers entered, marking the start of dinner rush. Among the crowd was a girl dressed in Victorian garb and bowler hat, like a lady Dr. Watson.

“Hannah!” the girl cried out. “How the hell did you forget your pants?” She held up a pair of clean black slacks.

“Brittany!” Hannah let out an embarrassed yelp and ran to her roommate. As she disappeared into the restroom to switch pants, her three co-workers excitedly approached Brittany. I should have just worn my costume to work too.

When she emerged with respectful pants on, she went to the table to collect her backpack and comic book. The pack was there waiting for her, but the book…

“Where the hell is my comic?”

The co-workers, plus Brittany, rushed to the bar when they heard.

“What’s going on?” Keith asked.

“My comic is…” Hannah stopped as she realized someone must have grabbed it as they rushed to Brittany. And the only people in the back of the bar section… “One of you took it!”

Both men looked surprised at the accusation. “What?”

“One of you,” Hannah repeated, looking each square in the eyes. Before any of them could argue, she said “Quiet!”

Figure out what you know, she thought. Like in the detective stories. Right, well, Robert was jealous when I showed him the comic. But where…?

“Both of you stay here.” Hannah ran to the bar, and looked behind every bottle and underneath every dish. Nothing. But besides the bar, there was no place in the section to hide it. It had to be here. She reached in her pocket for her phone’s flashlight, but stopped.

Looking down at her nice, clean pants, a horrible thought occurred.

“Keith, would you… crap… let me see what you got in your sweatpants?” she forced the words out.

In a second, Keith’s face went from confused, to excited, to alarmed. He started to speak, then bolted toward the door.

“No!” Hannah yelled, leaping just in time to grab the dirty waistband and pull it down. The pants fell around Keith’s ankles, along with the comic, and several bags of chips and Cheetos.

“I can explain!” Keith cried, as Robert pulled him, and the pants, back up.

“You can explain to the managers, man,” Robert said as he led the cook toward the office.

“Wow,” Brittany said. “Well done, Hannah. Like a real detective.”

Hannah didn’t hear the compliment. She was looking at the comic book, covered in sweat and crumbs. “Do you think this still looks mint condition?” she asked.