I live with my chronologically adult sister. We are like the female Frasier’s without the money and intelligent conversations. We’re probably more like the female version of Beavis and Butthead.
The other day I went to the bathroom in my underwear. Not literally, what I meant was I walked through my apartment to the bathroom while wearing a t shirt and underwear. Just as I was closing the bathroom door I heard “Are those my underwear?”.
I responded honestly, “I don’t think so”.
When I exited the latrine, she approached me and began to inspect the panties in question. “Yeah, those look like mine. Where did you get them?”.
I defensively claimed ‘I’ve had these for years”.
She jumped on it “For YEARS? You’ve had THAT pair of underwear for years? So you wear what? Vintage underwear?”.
If I was the type of person who dated my underwear with its purchase date, I could have proved my case right there on the spot. But I’m not.
I wasn’t sure which accusation I liked better the one that insinuated I had secretly entered her room, rifled through her panty drawer, and carefully chosen a ratty old pair of underwear to steal or the secondary implication, I don’t buy fresh underwear as frequently as the average folk. In both instances I am portrayed as a tattered underwear lover, which I do not self identify as.
I went back to bed imagining how I would take pictures of all the pretty, modern day panties, I owned and text them to her individually during the day. I fell back asleep and had a dream that a sexy Japanese woman followed me into a public bathroom and after I had chosen my stall and purposefully locked the door, she popped her head over the door with a Jew fro wig on and an oversized red velvet bell hop jacket with squared shoulders. As I tried to process what the hell was happening she put a gun to the tip of my nose. I woke up confused and more distrustful of sexy Japanese women than I could have ever imagined. I completely forgot about the panty photo shoot.
Although I still think it’s a funny idea.
And the panty purchase date thing.
I’m onto something there!
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Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.