Monday, March 03, 2008

A Week Without Underbritches

Why ever is this baby crying? Could it be that the baby is horrified by the fact that it is holding a baby that looks exactly like it that is also crying? Perhaps, but more likely this kid is crying because it doesn't have access to clean underwear.

I empathize.

Every year thousands of Americans go without clean undergarments. Given the current national economic landscape, there are a variety of reasons that send people out into the world commando. Just look at these staggering statistics:

  • 58% of plumbers go without underwear because panty lines impede, "giving good crack."
  • 37% of creepy uncles don't wear undergarments because it gets in the way of fiddlin' their bits during Monday Night Football.
  • 75% of strippers are without underwear because, "I gots to air that shit out."
But it isn't just stippers, blue collar folk and likely pedophiles that this lack of underwear strikes. This week I too went without underwear.

Much like becoming homeless or addicted to smack, I never thought going without underwear would happen to me. It didn't happen all at once. It began simply, harmlessly.

Chart of Options - Proportions Represent Available Resources

Back in the day life was good. I would wear my soft Gap Body boxer shorts. Yes ladies, I'm a boxer man. Those are nice shorts they are soft and comfy to sleep in. In fact, they are the official boxer short of Patrick Garrigan. Despite my love for them, I really only have so many pairs. Over time, given my active lifestyle, I ran out and had to move on to the next option.

Boxer briefs were next in line. Don't get me wrong they're all fine and good, but they just aren't me. I have a few of them laying around for special occasions. You know what I mean? "Special occasions?" When some "occassion especiale" comes along? Yeah, well eventually I ran out of those too. Which forced me to the next line of defense.

The tighty whiteys. Now I think the last time I purchased tighty whiteys was in 1995 with my mother at a Marion, Ohio WALMART. Despite this, I still own (4) pairs with unidentifiable (or worse, identifiable) stains. Like sands through the hour glass (4) days come and go and I am desperate.

Which brings me to my dance belts. I haven't worn a dance belt in a couple of years because frankly they squish your jibbly bits into a ball. And no one wants into-a-ball-squished jibbly bits, right people? They were called up regardless.

Anyway, as of last Sunday night I had exhausted my supply of jibbly bit squishing undergarments and found myself in quite the pickle.

My answer was to go without.

That's right folks all last week I was sans underwear. Here's just a smattering of things I did while ma boys were flapping in the breeze:
  1. Performed in a cabaret.
  2. Tutored blind children.
  3. Ate pie.
  4. Wrote a book on doing things without underwear.
  5. Gave up my seat on the subway for an old lady: she said, "thank you." I replied, "no underwear."
  6. Answered the phone at work.
  7. Told a knock, knock joke.
  8. Participated in the U.S. Women's Olympic Figure Skating trials.
Pretty impressive, eh? Well, not everyone agreed.

Many people upon hearing of my strife begged the question,"why don't you just do your damn laundry? "

"Oh, it's so easy to judge me isn't it?!" I would reply, throw my drink in their face and storm off.

Oh, I knew I had a problem, but how to deal with it?

The answer came to me last night, when my roomate and Girl Friday, Joey sat me down as I watched the Law & Order SVU marathon and helped me see the light.

How did he do this? He hit me over the head with a bottle of detergent and supportively intoned, "go do your laundry, you ass. It's at the end of the block for fuck's sake. Fuckin' gross...." Sometimes you really just need to hear it in terms that connect, you know?

So I'm going to grab a couple of hours of sleep now and then tomorrow morning I am going to get up and clean my laundry before I go to work. That's right America, I am going to pull myself up by my bootstraps and get me some clean underwear! It's what that girl with the creepy crying baby that looks just like her would want.

1 comment:

Hector said...

I THOUGHT your performance on Monday night was more breezy and freer than usual!
Kudos to no drawers! (or "smalls" as they say in South Africa).


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