Thursday, June 19, 2008

The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe Malfunction. Except with no lion or witch.

Margarita once asked me what kind of underpants I was wearing – or something like that – and I said boxer-briefs. As a matter of fact, I generally wear boxer-briefs. I’m wearing boxer-briefs right now.

But this past weekend, I had an experience that brought home a glaring and heinous flaw in the design of men’s underwear with staggering force. That flaw? The inexplicable open fly. Why? Why does every pair of underpants, from tighty-whities to silk boxers to my favorite boxer-briefs, have the expandable hole directly in the crotch?

Don’t tell me for a minute that it’s to make bathroom functions a step easier; that’s crap. That’s like saying you never unbutton your pants, just crank down the fly. Maybe at a picnic when you only have one free hand because you’re holding a beer, but that’s about it. Every man knows in 95 cases out of a hundred, you just pull the whole kit and caboodle down and out of the way.

Yet the hole remains.

On a well-worn pair of undies, the seams can stretch a little bit. There might be a little flap in the ass-fabric, the waistband might have lost some elasticity. When the crotch-portal starts flapping open uncontrollably, then you have a problem.

I pitched the second game of a double-header on Saturday, and after the a shitty game, I was getting into some shorts because I was sweating like Michael Jackson at a boy scout Jamboree. I don’t know if it was the friction of the snug-fitting baseball pants, or the one-footed, spread-eagle jouncing as I peeled the high socks down that did it, but suffice it to say that one moment I was looking up to hear the coach remind us to clear the dugout and the next I was staring down at my own crotch with dismay, surprised to see that a new teammate had joined the post-game meeting.

You know how embarrassing it is when you find your fly open – with underwear on underneath. Imagine how you’d feel with your genitals on full display in front of sixteen disgruntled teammates and six hundred-some fans in the stands.

I had two options: go the baseball-jokey-jokemaker route and start dancing and describing eerie pelvic figure eights; or tuck the offending party out of sight and pretend nothing had happened.

I tucked, pulled my shorts on, and tried to act casual (should I whistle? Shit, these shorts don’t have pockets!), but the looks I got from a few unfortunate teammates assured me that no matter what I pretended, like the fox and his sour grapes, like a rape victim who suppresses her memories until they eat away at her very soul, I couldn’t change the truth.

And the truth is that I think I’m going to start wearing speedos instead of underwear. Because even a bright lime-green banana-hammock could not have been more inappropriate than that.

11 comments:

A Lil' Irish Lass said...

Personally, I would love to see you in a bright lime-green banana-hammock.

The [Cherry] Ride said...

I unbotton only about 50% of the time. The rest, I just unzip. Depends on the pants.

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

I say pitch the double header in JUST the banana hammock. I think they'll be a buzz about you . . .

Jon said...

You should have flashed the batters from the mound! It would have been awkward, sure, but that little bit of confusion would have given you the edge. It's hard to hit a baseball when you're looking away in disgust...

A Margarita said...

Haha!

Ditto on what Lil' said.

Angela said...

Hahahaha, that's a "whoops!" moment if I've ever heard one!

surviving myself said...

Yes, as long as it's bright lime-green. Any other color and you're asking for trouble.

Falwless said...

This was funny.

Signed,
Falwless

Nicole said...

Ohmygod. Hilarious!

jinius said...

maybe it is not a good idea to read this blog while eating lunch. i nearly choked after reading banana hammock.

J. Hi said...

Oh, stop acting like it was an accident, you bad man!

Today bright-lime green banana-hammock, tomorrow woman panties.