Can’t say I really know when it happened, but I became a big fan of boxer briefs. I remember going through school wearing cheap boxer shorts, but sometime ‘round graduation, I made some kind of move to the world of the boxer brief, and I’ve been there ever since.
Now, if you’re a girl, you’re probably not going to be interested in this li’l bit of writing, since it’s about guys’ underwear and what the hell do you care. Of course, if you’re a guy, you probably won’t be that interested either, since at some point I’ll probably have to make some kind of reference to my meat and / or potatoes. I’m sure you’re really looking forward to that kind of thing. Freaking perverts. So I don’t know why the hell I’m writing this, but it’s been on my mind and I’m not one to speak about women’s underwear, which is probably more interesting. I tell ya, I can only appreciate that from a point of observation.
So getting right back to it, in case someone out there is still reading this, I probably should tell you why exactly boxer briefs are so effin’ great. Easy answer: they’re the best of both worlds – just like those tasty Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. You get the looser coverage offered by boxer shorts, but not really giving up the support offered by the age-old brief (usually referred to as “Tightie Whities” although they don’t have to stick with the color white anymore). Think about it like cars, and you might read me a little better. The brief is one of those shitty Geo Metros – economical, compact, does the job but maybe isn’t the most comfortable ride for long periods. The boxer short would be something more like an SUV, because it’s a lot bigger, can comfortably hold a lot more, but all that extra space leaves lots of room for things to shift around in the interior. Get it? Now the sweet, sweet boxer brief… it’s the Honda Civic of the underwear world. Compact enough to be a comfortable and sleek ride, yet enough room and durability to handle any kind of clothing situation. The only thing it really can’t match against full-blown boxer shorts is the whole novelty thing. While the Civic of the underwear world can sport fun colors and interesting patterns on the fabric, we’re probably not going to be seeing pimped-out big happy faces on a silk weave any time soon. That’s a tricked out look that only the big boy drawers can do right now.
But this whole story’s really about me kinda falling off the underwear wagon for a day. Was just a bad set of circumstances. The wife had picked up a new pack of undies when she was at one of those “Saturday Sales” that someone’s always having on a Wednesday or some shit like that, and she thought she was grabbing a pack of boxer briefs, which she of course knows by now that I like those. But she was tricked by one those clever bastards at Fruit of the Loom, and she’d accidentally grabbed a pack of briefs with really groovy colors and patterns. Can’t really blame her, because it was an easy mistake. Geo Metros aren’t supposed to come with the wild paint jobs, after all.
But this leads to the following incident on Wednesday last:
Me: Katie, I’m out of clean underwear.
Wife: You didn’t do the laundry. It’s still your turn.
Me: Shit… So I’ve got no clean underwear?
Wife: There’s a new pack over by the closet.
Me: Honey… these are fucking briefs. Why the hell did you get me briefs?
Wife: I must have picked up the wrong pack… I don’t know. I’m sorry. You still didn’t do the laundry.
So I knew that I’d never win that argument as long as I had piles of dirty laundry over my head, and I ripped into the package and faced the bad news: Squirming into a pair of nut-huggers for the first time in about five years. Pretty sure I’d not liked it back then, either. Probably was another college-era underwear crisis. But yeah, I had to spend my entire work day uncomfortably wiggling in my drawers. It was just damn tight, like trying to close an over-full Rubbermaid container. Some things don’t like to be packed in.
So I guess this story has three morals:
1) Briefs are only good for comedy and old people.
2) Doing the laundry isn’t hard, and your wife has ways of making sure she’ll always have more clean clothes than you. Just do the fucking laundry and save yourself from wardrobe hell.
3) People that wear things like Speedos are obviously in for it for the pain, because if the brief is like a Geo Metro, then the “Banana Hammock” is probably like a fat guy on a fast moped.
Go. Tell the people.
