Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Panty raid


SnarkScribe recently put up this hilarious post about some idiot who keeps a 'girlfriend closet' - that is, a collection of clothes that he would dress his girlfriends in. The man should just get a Real Doll, but then, they don't talk back (although for a certain type of man, I'm sure that's part of the appeal).

Right after college, I got a retail job at the local mall with Jones New York. One of my coworkers, Michael, fancied himself a real ladies' man. He thought he was smooth, always telling me about his various conquests or talking up his 'legendary' backrubs. He was the stock sitcom character at the office who's always on the make.

One day, during a slow period, Michael and I were folding shirts to pass the time. I think I mentioned that I still had one of my ex boyfriend's shirts. I had found it in a pile of stuff, and was agonizing over whether or not to throw it out. I was still getting over the breakup, and my ex's shirt smelled like him, which triggered all kinds of emotions and flashbacks to when things were good between us. Ah, young love; it bears such a very close resemblance to complete insanity. Michael, in what was quite possibly the most horribly misguided attempt at coworker bonding in history, told me that he could relate to my conundrum. He had a panty collection, which he felt guilty about, but couldn't get rid of.

You heard that right.

Michael had stolen a pair of previously worn panties from every girl he'd ever fucked; he kept them in a large photo album, each one carefully sealed inside a Ziploc sandwich bag.

Those of you who are twisted enough to read this blog on a regular basis have probably figured out where this is going...

...and you're right. The Panty Filcher would periodically take the aforementioned unmentionables out of the plastic and take a big whiff. It goes without saying that he got off on it.

BARF.

Okay. I do not, do not get this about guys! Granted, not all guys do this, but the ones that do...what is wrong with you? I don't want to sniff my own panties. I certainly don't want to take a whiff of my guy's BVDs. Loyal bepenised readers, help me out here. Yo no comprendo.

Anyhow, back to my story. When I got up off the floor - I was seriously busting a gut from laughing so hard - I told Mr. Smoothie that he might just have a mental problem. I also advised that he move to Japan. To his credit, he freely admitted his own douchery and laughed about it. Perhaps I was being a bit harsh, because he had, in fact, helped me out.

I went home that night and threw out my ex's shirt. I would have burned it in the fireplace if it wasn't summertime.

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17 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Male phermones exude from the armpits.
Female phermones exude from the vulva.

Though we might protest we still are placental mammals and as such obey the laws of nature.

In Cognito

9:04 AM  
Blogger Snark Scribe said...

Ew, misuse of ziploc bags.

Thanks for the linkage, Ginger! Update on weirdo: He recently showed up to a costume party, with his new girlfriend wearing an outfit very similar to the one his ex wore to another event the previous week. Shudder!

10:56 AM  
Blogger Ginger said...

Not at all, Snark, I love your blog.

2:34 PM  
Blogger Ginger said...

P.S. InCognito, you are so adorably pretentious.

3:09 PM  
Blogger SonjaB said...

Ummm, wow. Panties in ziplock baggies. That seems a bit sociopathic.

4:31 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ain't I though.
You totally want my trouser snake now don't you, my little poppet.
I'll nerd you baby.
I'll nerd you real good.

In Cognito

7:09 AM  
Blogger Ginger said...

Uh, no I don't, and you'd better watch your mouth.

11:57 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

????
Ummmm......
Ermmm.....
It was a joke son.
I was still 'in character' within your "Guys sure are funny" label and presenting a typically male hyperbolic over-reaction to your 'adorably pretentious' quip. You know how men/boys are - exhibit even the slightest sign that you might hold a romantic interest and they immediately assume you profess/possess undying, Bronte-esque love for them.
Perhaps I was a tad too subtle.
Apologies if I have offended, I certainly did not intend to. I mean only to be humourous and 'adorably pretentious'(A phrase of which I am quite enamoured by the way.

Post Scripta - You are not the first to refer to me as such, though usually the adverb employed is 'annoyingly' rather than 'adorably'. The adjective 'fucking', presents on occasion as well.

In Cognito

4:19 AM  
Blogger Brian Buckle said...

Tossing the shirt was probably a good idea. I ditched a new bottle of shampoo when I realized it Smelled Like Her. Later I bought the same brand again, thinking "you're not the boss of me, pesky sense memory". Then she called. The shampoo and I remain in d├ętente.

I forget how I got here (definitely not by googling "work sweater tits desk"), but I remember why I return: nice writing and good attitude, despite the constellation of freaks and arsebags around you.

5:49 AM  
Blogger Ginger said...

InCognito,
If you've been reading this blog, you're well aware that I don't put up with comments like that. Besides, I'm all too familiar with the a certain male propensity to make an inappropriate comment and then do the dudely backpedal when I call him out on it. Come up with something original, 'son'. You're starting to annoy.

Brian, welcome and I'm glad you're enjoying the blog. Just keep your trouser snake out of it, and you'll be fine.

11:37 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

"...dudely backpedal..."

Nyuck, nyuck.

I am a newcomer, alas. I will try to maintain a semblance of the proper decorum, as I am learning to perceive it.

True story:

At the front desk of the Royal Hotel, Bangkok, December 13, 2006.

Front Staff Lady #1: " Why you have in your ear? You not hear when motorbike come."

Me: Taking out pricy, but effective, foam earplugs: "I forgot to take them out when I left work." In truth I wear them as Bangkok is a VERY loud city!

Front Staff Lady #2: "You work in factory with machine?"

Me: "No, I am in a neonatal unit with, maybe, 20 screaming babies - wah, wah, wah."

FSL #1: "I do not understand."

Me: "I am doctor in hospital for new babies."

FSL #2: "You take babies out?"

Me: "And I put babies in!"

FSL #1: "How you put babies in?"

Me: "I put babies in 9 months before I take babies out."

FSL #1 and FSL #2 think a little and converse with each other in Thai.

FSL #1: As she playfuly hits me on the arm while laughing hysterically and turning bright red: "You are funny man."

FSL #1 explains, in Thai, to FSL #2 . Both are quite red and laughing at this point.


Four hours later:
The three of us are in my room engaging in acts prepatory to fornication.*




*The last line is not true, but it could have been! I am an honourable man and will not triffle with the affections of no less than three Thai ladies at any given time. Four hours later I was drinking Singha in my room, alone, and watching "Star Wars - Episode III." Believe it or not, I had never seen it before. Now I only have five more in the series to see.

In Cognito

12:09 PM  
Blogger Ginger said...

Jesus tapdancing Christ, just get your own blog.

12:28 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

"Christ on a stick" is a good one too.
I have two currently active blogs to which I could refer you, but I can't - I wouldn't be In Cognito any more. Innit?

In Cognito

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