Ok..as some of you may remember, and surely couldn't care less, Swerve was gonna fulfill her New Year's resolution, and purchase some underwear.
I claimed I was goin' to Vicky's Secret and buyin' girly, lacy unmentionables...but my Scottish frugality got the better of me and I decided that before I spent all sorts of money on undies, I'd do well to test drive a pair before I bought expensive ones. Only makes sense, does it not? Right.
Sooo...I did what any self respecting girl in the south does when she wants something cheap. I went to Wal-Mart!
I had high hopes of findin' cheap undies; and with visions of a shopping cart with four working wheels burning feverishly in my brain....I sashayed ( Yes, I sashayed. Swerve would never do something so mundane as "walk"!!) past the Nascar T-shirts and boxes of laundry soap printed in Spanish, took a right at the giant display of scrubble puffs ( 97cents! ) and found myself in some sort of pret-a-porter labyrinth of spring fashion for the masses! Peering steely eyed around a few corners, I managed to find the grail...a veritable canyon of silky, slaaaanky little underpants! Hells yes and eureka!, I said to myself... this will surely be quick and painless, and I can get the HELL right up outta Wal-Mart, "avec lingerie".
So, there am I...trying to decide which type of panties would suit me best. I consider carefully...you see, it's very confusing. There is butt floss, T- back, boy shorts, bikinis, cheeky shorts, granny type...you name it, they make it... and apparently, Wally World carries it.
Now, look...thongs are not going to be my choice because they're disgusting, really. The stupid things should be called "thong-pons" because the nasty little band- aid sized scrap of fabric that "covers" you down where it counts stays mushed up IN you, and the rest is just a string.
Yeah...let's examine that, shall we? Chicks tell me it's "gross" that I won't wear any, but they will put these thong things on...and their ummm..."binkys" are totally NOT covered and there's a nasty elastic string UP THEIR WAZOOS! What's grosser? That nasty strip of elastic you just peeled outta yer crack...or just not wearing any? Why do they wear 'em? So it looks like they aren't wearing any. Um....ok? LOGIC is obviously not in style for a lot of women....
Anyway..I digress...so, there I am...do I want my ass lookin' all "cheeky"? Do I want the ones shaped like a "V" in front? Will I need a Brazilian wax to WEAR these damn things? All the types and colors started to run together and I started getting stressed.
I keep taking them off the rack...and putting then back until I start to break into a cold sweat...just about the time I wanted to lie on the floor in a fetal position, I remembered the safe, white cotton granny panties...and I went over to them. They comforted me as best they could...gave me some home-made cookies, and held me until I was ready to face the "wailing wall" on my own, again. Well, ok...they didn't really. What had happened was... I shoplifted some Chips Ahoys...and the rest was probably in my imagination....
Alrighty then! I am ready! I grab the V front, lace cheeky shorts. I have faced my adversary, and I am victorious! ( Cue "Flight of the Valkyries") Feeling like little miss intrepid, I almost toss them into the cart. And then...it occurs to me...I have NO IDEA what size I wear!
Hmmm.....
I am not about to try these things on, as I can already imagine the look the fitting room attendant will give me...and I think they frown on trying on the unmentionables, anyway. So, there I stand..holding up pair after pair of panties in front of me..stretching them this way and that...
I look up and three young women are passing by..staring at me as if I were insane. I can just HEAR their thoughts...
" Wwwwhat the hell is she doing? Look, she's HOLDING THE PANTIES UP IN FRONT OF HERSELF LIKE SHE DOESN'T....OH MY GAWD! SHE HAS NO CLUE WHAT SIZE UNDERWEAR SHE WEARS! THAT MUST mean....oh, grosssss!..."
It got loud in the middle because they were passing by. Doppler effect, ya know....
So...embarrassed beyond anything, I stop. I decide to call my awesome friend and ask what size she thinks I need. She's smart like that.
Swerve: Sup, girly...I'm in Wallyworld, and I need to ask you something.
Friend: Shoot, but talk fast....
Swerve: umm, well...what size panties do you think I wear? See, I'm all confused, they aren't sized like jeans. They're...
Friend: What?
Swerve: ..only in a few sizes...
Friend: What?
Swerve: Panties!...I need to know what size panties I...
Friend: YOU interrupted MY MOVIE to ask me some stupid crap about panties?
swerve: Well, yeah...I'm sorry..it's just that....
Friend: CLICK ...
I never liked that bitch.
So, I decide to just grab a number somewhere in the middle and run with it. Size 8. See, 8 is a nicely shaped number, and also the symbol for infinity, which, I think is fitting for someone with an ass as big as mine!
I get them in the cart and run to pay. A nice lady with a multicolored braid rug for a hairdo and the name " Tah'M-ikia;-ro*n'da" (heh heh, not racist, sistahs just have names with punctuation in 'em!) rings me up and I go home...pleased with myself for beating the underwear at it's own game!
I proudly don the new flimsies and go to bed....ummm....can't sleep, as usual. And, as usual, I squirm and toss around a lot. The panties can't sleep either, evidently, because they are twisting and turning all around! It's like we're dancing or something.
Eventually, after tugging them up at the top and down at the bottom for what seemed an hours-on-end eternity, but considering my gifts for metaphor and hyperbole, was probably something like 10 minutes...I get disgusted. I peel them off in one swift, fluid motion, and sling them as hard as I can in the general vicinity of my bathroom.
And that is the end of the story.
Well, not exactly...you see, my bed sits very close to my tiny bathroom..and when I got up the next morning..in the dark...half asleep...I went to tinkle...and there were the damn pink undies IN the toilet! These things have a very high misery quotient! Who knew underpants were THAT spiteful?
But, like any true Aries female...I AM THE WARRIOR! I am NOT goin' out like that!
So, I do the only thing I CAN do to get revenge. I PEE RIGHT ON THEM!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA, take THAT, you bitches! And then, I flush them away to a watery hell.....
Roto-Rooter will be here later this afternoon.
I fuckin' HATE underwear.....
