The Big Laundry Gamble

I went home to Northern Virginia this past weekend. It was quite the time. I met my oldest sister’s fiance and proceded to get rip roarin’ drunk. About 3 Corona’s, a San Miguel, 5 Johnny Walker Blue. on the rocks and, no kidding, 11 shots of Jose Cuervo Especial. I pity my wife sometimes. Oh, and here’s to that guy Michael who cracked open the Blue Label. That was really nice and smooth.

Anyways, the week before I came home I had a dilemma: do my laundry at my apartment complex or take all my dirty laundry home. I tried my best to stretch out the amount of clean clothes I could wear and I literally went about 4 weeks without having to do laundry. But last week my luck started running out. My supply of socks had dwindled but I was lucky that the weather was warm and I could wear sandals and flip flops. Then the dress socks started to evaporate. The final straw came when I got down to my last few pairs of boxer shorts. It was a Thursday and I finally hit rock bottom: a flannel pair that would make me look as if I was wearing an adult diaper and would cause me to sweat in the…uh…Netherlands and my dark blue pair. The ones that always find a way to twist themself into a position to cause me the utmost discomfort. Nothing is worse than having on a pair of boxers like that when you really need to take a whiz. You reach down for the opening in your shorts to pull out your schlong and the opening somehow migrated to your hip.

Angela gave me the old ‘Why don’t you wash your delicates in the sink?’, to which I said to her ‘EW!’. No, I did the next best thing to doing laundry. I went to Target to buy new underpants and socks.

Yes, I had stooped to the tactic of buying replacement clothing rather than doing laundry. I found my socks – how can you go wrong with black? – and then I went to the mens underwear. Who knew it would be expensive?? You want me to pay $8 for two pair of boxer shorts? I considered just wrapping myself in newspaper instead. Then I remembered that I don’t get the newspaper. I then spied a package that said ‘5 pair for $9.89′. SWEET! So I bought it thinking that I got a bargain.

I’m an idiot. It was a 5 pack of briefs. Rather than go back to the store and return it (Hi, I’d like to return some underwear!) I opened it and slid into one after my shower. Ugh. It was like trying to slip a manatee into a sausage casing. This was not a good look for me. I felt all confined and uncomfortable. Bah.

Which led me to doing my laundry. I finally sucked it up and went and did it early on a Sunday morning. Sometime around 5am, when I knew I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else in the apartment complex’ laundry center. When it was all said and done, everything was clean and warm and folded. And there before me was a tower of boxer shorts. A glorious tower, 28 pair high.

As God as my witness, I’ll never let that happen again. Or I’ll learn to read the packaging better. Whichever comes first.