Fug of a Teenage Drama Queen

When I repeatedly IMPLORED you to leave the leggings by the wayside, I meant that you should THEN PUT SOMETHING ELSE ON THE LOWER HALF OF YOUR BODY. Not that you ought to run all over the place in what are, for all intents and purposes, basically undies. I know you are in Hawaii. But Hawaii is not an alien planet where all the rules of polite society can be safely ignored. In fact, it actually is part of the United States of America. And, like the rest of Earth, it is peopled with human beings, the majority of whom are not visually impaired. You are in the parking lot of a mini-mall. You are not on the beach, at the pool, in your hotel room or your backyard or your own balcony. Those are the ONLY PLACES that we, as a society, have agreed that it is okay not to wear bottoms. You are not trotting across resort property to grab a daiquiri and a club sandwich. You are in a public place. I guess Dina never taught you this, but when you go to the Ritz Camera for a new memory card, you NEED TO WEAR PANTS. Or shorts. Or a sarong. OR SOMETHING.  WE EARTHLINGS HAVE SEEN ENOUGH OF YOUR INNER THIGHS. PLEASE RELEASE US FROM THIS NEVER-ENDING CYCLE OF PANTLESSNESS.