Underwear Shopping

It's become that time again for me. The time I dread. The time when, sadly, the number of pairs of underwear I own aren't enough to get me through the two weeks in between laundry days.

I'm not sure how it happened. Did I lose some u-trow somewhere? Are there gnomes stealing it from my dresser in the middle of the night? So, you guessed it: it was time to go underwear shopping.

What an adventure...

My first step was to check into H&M. A friend said they had some good underwear for sale, including some high-tech seamless boxer briefs. Their selection didn't seem to be any more interesting than the last time I stopped in. I have a lot of H&M boxer briefs in my collection, but they have far too many seams and no fly. I was pretty sick of pulling down my pants every time I wanted to piss, so I moved on.

I started to walk to Macy*s. I was about a block into my my trip from H&M to Macy*s (nee Hechts) when I remembered my past few visits to the recently converted store. It was like clothes shopping in Siberia. There was nothing on the shelves, everything was in disarray and every employee seemed more interested in sharing stories about their weekend than helping me find where they kept the umbrellas. I stopped dead in my tracks and made a 180. I headed to the bus stop, where I figured I'd jump onto the S2 bus. I decided to try... you guessed it, Universal Gear. I figured, if anyone knows underwear, it's the gays.

I was in luck. UG was having a 25% off sale on all underwear. I went up to the second story and started looking around. I remembered hearing that 2^(x)ist made underwear out of soy nowadays. I was intrigued by the idea of having underwear that matched my preferred non-dairy cereal topping, so I checked it out: lots and lots of seams, limited color selection, and expensive.

(An aside: I was hoping to find some seamless underwear because I do a lot of cycling around town in everyday clothes. When cycling, the seams can cut into one's tender flesh as you sit on them on a tiny bike seat or chafe one's thighs and other parts during ordinary cycling motions. That's why cycling shorts have so few seams and are instead made from large panels of spandex.)

I turned out that all of the high-tech alternative fiber (soy, bamboo, etc.) options were criss-crossed with seams and rather expensive. So I decided to investigate more on my own. I started opening up different packs of underwear to see if they had many seams, especially around the more sensitive parts of the male anatomy. I was probably foraging around in the underwear section for a good ten minutes before I realized that an older gentleman was standing across the room checking me out. How long had he been there? I had no idea. Did he think I was spending time in the underwear section because the bathrooms at Union Station were now under surveillance? I decided to stop browsing and call in a professional. I did what I rarely do while shopping for clothes: I asked the sales associate for help.

"Pardon me, do you have any seamless underwear?"

"Theamless, wha id theamless?"

"Um, underwear without seams."

"Theams? I don understan." I realized then that the "help" was going to be of no help at all. He barely spoke English. I have no problems with immigrants, don't get me wrong. I think that all the world's population should interbreed and have beautiful tan babies. I just think that when you work at a store, you need to be able to understand the language of your customers.

I explained to him what I was looking for with my hands, using a seamy pair from the shelf for demonstration purposes. He decided that they didn't have any, but that he'd look.

"Id this wha ju lookin fo?" he asked, as he turned towards me holding a pair of underwear on a hanger, the overwhelming scent of his cologne almost completely blocking out his milk-curdling (or curdled milk?) breath.

"No, no," I finished, wincing from the fumes. "I guess you don't have any."

I continued to browse, and stumbled upon what was probably the choicest find of the afternoon: pairs of boxer briefs with a "trophy shelf." I didn't fully investigate, but it appears that this trophy shelf is meant to boost up your package and make it bulge out. I thought to myself, this is why I don't buy gay underwear.

Refusing to go home empty-handed, I decided that the regular old briefs that they stocked in multi-packs had the lowest seam-per-dollar ratio. I bought a three-pack of basic 2^(x)ist briefs, and a two-pack of Calvin Klein 365 Stretch briefs, as I thought to myself, "Welcome to the world of gay underwear."



Underwear Gnomes

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