Underwear Fetish

Last week I went to dinner with a friend. We have a normal place where we go ninety percent of the time we eat out, but this time I proposed a change because I needed to purchase some new underwear and suggested we go to a place near the mall where I could accomplish my purchase.

He looked at me like I had lost the very central part of my sanity. “What underwear are you going to get at the mall?” He asked, looking down his nose at me like a librarian with half-lens reading glasses.

“Calvin Klein.” I replied.

“You still wear Calvin Klein?” He implored with a pitch that disguised his gender and made me anticipate his next comment would be something about CK underwear being, “so ‘80’s.”

Did CK make underwear in the ‘80’s? I only remember CK jeans in the ‘80’s thanks to the way Mrs. Nornberg stood in the hall each Friday with her butt blocking traffic so we would all read the label on her jeans.

“So where should I go?” I begged. Maybe my choice of underwear is why I rarely get laid. I wanted to know. And I wanted the best.

Without hesitation, he suggested Tapelenders, a local porn vendor.

Without hesitation, I replied, “Not on your life! My boss can see the door from his office!” in a pitch that disguised my gender!

Another librarian look and a disdainful, “They stay open late.”

So I went late.

I never realized that underwear could sell for more than $8 a pair. Most of the underwear was over $20 a pair; however, I did find a well known brand for $10 per pair. I’m cheap so I bought four pair.

I hate to say this, but they feel damn good! I’ll be going back for more very soon. I may even invest in the $20+ per pair kind. After years in the normal tighty-whities, I discovered a few years ago that the Calvin Kleins were worth the extra money and then actually found heaven with some GAP boxer briefs. Now I’m so comfortable, I don’t care if my underwear gets me laid or not.

When do you actually throw old underwear away? Is it when they fail to fulfill their function? Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the noted beat poet, suggested in his poem, “Underwear” that “Women’s underwear holds things up and men’s underwear holds things down.” (Obviously he didn’t wear boxers.) Or do you hold onto underwear until they are merely threads of their former selves?

I, for one, always prayed to never be in an accident.

But now that I have discovered the joy of great underwear, I may never again fear being in an accident. Bring it on. You can scar my face and maim my body, but my genitalia are comfortably held down!