On Wednesday, I decided to do some laundry. When I went to take the clothes out of the dryer, it turned out I was missing a pair of underwear. This may sound like a First World problem, but it was my LUCKY pair of underwear. And I was pretty upset because what the hell happened to my lucky underwear? I’m pretty sure it went INTO the dryer, so where did it go? Is there really an alternate universe where a strange little leprechaun-type man says “Ooh, that’s just lovely. Feel that fabric! I MUST have this lucky underwear which is most certainly somebody’s favourite!” and then you never see it again until there’s a rainbow?
I checked the washing machine AND the dryer at least twice more and there was no sign of it. Then I searched my closet—same thing. Then I backtracked and followed my path from the laundry room up to the bedroom (I may or may not have stopped in the kitchen for some liquid refreshment to comfort myself over the loss). But now I’m worried that maybe it’s hiding in a pair of pants or a sweater or something, and that it will re-appear at an embarrassing moment. And while this may seem like a long-shot, believe me it’s not—I’ve had it happen before…
October, 1991: Ken and I had moved to Thunder Bay so that he could go to teacher’s college. I couldn’t find a paying job—there were 3 rounds of interviews just to be a waitress—so I started volunteering at a local public school. I went there every morning to help students in the “Literacy Centre”, which was, in reality, a small room with one computer. On the way to school that fateful morning, I was on the sidewalk in front of the building when I looked down and realized that the toe of a pair of pantyhose was peeking out from my pant leg. I stopped. The best way to remove it seemed to be to just pull on it. This was, of course, easier said than done, and I stood there for several minutes, bent over, tugging, hopping, and wriggling around until the offending piece of laundry was finally extricated from my trousers. I shoved it in my pocket, and went into the school. When I got into the “Literacy Centre”, the teacher I was volunteering with asked me, “Um…what were you doing outside?”
I explained that I had an issue with a misplaced pair of pantyhose, and asked, “Why? Could you see me?”
“Yes,” she replied, “Yes, we could.”
We?! Who the f*ck was WE?! Well, it turned out that she had been in the grade 2 classroom next door, and she, along with 25 seven-year-olds, watched out the windows in gleeful fascination at my bizarre behaviour. Of course, they couldn’t see the pantyhose from that far away–all they could see was me doing an insane dance on the sidewalk. Thankfully, I was able to produce the nylons from my pocket to prove that I wasn’t drunk, or hallucinating about being attacked by a swarm of bees. But that’s not the only time I’ve had problems with underwear and sidewalks…
March 1998: I was about 5 months pregnant, and was getting very uncomfortable with a variety of articles of clothing. I’d resorted to wearing flannel shirts and sweat pants a lot, but I had to give a workshop in Dundas. I found the only dressy clothes that still fit me and put them on in an attempt to look professional. Ken offered to drive me, since I had no idea how to get to Dundas, and this was long before the days of GPS. On the way home, I was feeling all twisty and itchy, and I said to Ken that I really wanted to take off my bra. He said, “Go ahead. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.” (When you read that last line, pretend that it was said very ominously, and that it was accompanied by a roll of thunder or an echo or something.) Taking his advice, I wriggled out of the bra and tossed it aside. A while later, we were going through the small town 5 minutes down the road from where we lived, and we decided to stop at the local video store. “I can’t go in,” I said. “I’m not wearing a bra.”
“Just put on your raincoat,” said Ken. “NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.” (This time, pretend that he laughed maniacally and that everything went red and flame-y for a second. And for those of you who are saying, “No bra? What’s the big deal?”, remember that this was over 25 years ago and it was a different time/different me. If it was today, I would have gone in nips a-blazing, not giving a sh*t, haha.)
Again, taking his advice, I put on my raincoat, and in we went to peruse the shelves of VHS tapes. Suddenly, the door opened, and this huge guy wearing a red lumberjack jacket and work boots stomped in. And he was TWIRLING MY BRA AROUND HIS FINGER.
“Hey, Darlene,” he laughed, as he addressed the video store clerk. “Is this yours? I found it on the sidewalk outside the store.”
“Not mine!” answered the clerk. “And it wasn’t there when I went out for a smoke a few minutes ago!”
And then, like a slow motion nightmare, they both turned and looked directly at me. In that moment, I had a choice—I could lie, and everyone would know I was lying, or I could salvage what dignity I had left. So I stalked over to the guy, grabbed my bra out of his grubby hands, and walked out of the store. Well, it was an expensive bra. Ken and I tried to piece the whole mystery together, and all we could figure is that, when I tossed the bra aside twenty minutes earlier, it must have landed on the floor of the car, and it caught on my heel when I got out, leaving Joe Lumberjack to retrieve it. Needless to say, we never went back to that store again. Ironically, that store is now the Drumbo Pub–I’ve had two book launches there, and little do they know that my bra made a guest appearance there long before I ever did.
Long story short, I need to find my underwear before it finds me–and I have a couple of big things in the works so I NEED the luck!
mydangblog 
Underwear stories! And, nope, not the one in the emergency room, and not the other one.
Speaking of cats, if you have one it’s a certainty that it is carrying single articles of clothing with it through the special inter-dimensional cat portal that is located somewhere in your home. Good luck.
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It seems I have a lot of underwear stories–but have you counted how many times I talk about my favourite bathroom? I think you’d be surprised!
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Very little on the Internet surprises me anymore, but just to show you I’m a good sport, I’ll check. Ha . . . using keyword “bathroom,” I get 11. I’m in hopes this is a greater number than the other.
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I find myself currently pondering the concept of “lucky underwear.” Is it really a thing? Or just a silly superstition passed down through the ages? I can’t be the only one who’s curious about this.
I mean, I have my own little rituals and habits that I believe bring me luck, like wearing a certain necklace or carrying a certain charm in my pocket. But lucky underwear? That’s a new one for me. 😂
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Oh, it’s a real superstition with me, rest assured! I do have a back-up pair though, so fingers crossed that my luck holds out!
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It’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard of. Amelia and I have a favorite tree that we call our dreaming tree. It stands tall and proud in the center of our back yard.
We were married beneath it, and in the springtime of the year, with the fresh scent of blossoms and new growth, we carefully tie ribbons to its branches. 🙂
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At first I was astounded that you noted the specific dates of these events because, well, it’s something that happens often enough that the incidents run together. But what really got me was the lumberjack. If I found someone’s bra—oh, wait, that has happened, and I was very discreet and polite about it because I couldn’t imagine why someone would lose a bra in a library. Anyway I feel certain the next thing that lumberjack was going to ask was, “What do you think, is it my color?”
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He cuts down trees, he wears high heels, suspenders and a bra… I have the specific dates because for the last 35 years, Ken has kept a journal where he writes down everything we did that day. So I just had to look it up. I wish it was electronic though–you can’t Control+F his terrible handwriting!
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He also likes to press wild flowers. 🙂
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🤣🤣🤣
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Well, at least you haven’t accused the leprechaun of…. er….. sniffing the pilfered underwear. And those little guys do look like they’d have a perverted streak in them. I’ll bet he’s at least running through the clover while twirling it around his finger like Joe Lumberjack….
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Ew, I hadn’t even though of that–what if he sniffed the luck right out of them?! Maybe that’s what’s going on right now–it’s been a crappy few days:-(
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It could be worse – these days those 7-yr-olds and Darlene would have filming it all, and you’d be a viral internet sensation. The moral of the story is- if you’re going to remove your underwear in public, make sure your book cover is prominently displayed nearby..🙂
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You’re right—I hadn’t even thought of that! Eek!
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I’ve had my fair share of clothing mishaps but somehow your the winner of the mishap olympics! Ugh, when one is pregnant all clothing is restricting, I remember vividly how uncomfortable is was.
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I know, right?! And I’d just finished a three hour presentation in heels!
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Well, at least the crows in the neighborhood didn’t tear through the garbage bags and pull out a ripped bra that could not be given away–and leave it the street for the kids to find–and hang in your tree in the front yard for everyone to see–except you don’t notice it for months maybe? And no one tells you. Not that this has ever happened to me. 🙂
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Not that it ever did, but 🤣🤣🤣
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Forgive me for asking the obvious – perhaps you were wearing them?
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No, actually I found them in a different laundry basket. Lucky!
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Thanks for the laughs!!!!🤣
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Glad you enjoyed it!
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Perhaps having a shaman anoint your entire wardrobe with “luck” might be an option. Or, come to the conclusion, as I have, that you’re a generally lucky person, underwear or not.
Now, we could debate “luck” as the Boy Scouts do, however, I suspect that, in your case, either the Cosmic Hand or being well prepared might both apply.
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In general, I am but I’ve had a couple of setbacks lately and I need all the extra luck I can get. Maybe I should join the Boy Scouts😉
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Glad you found your lucky underwear. As you point out, it’s always good to have a back up. Btw, I needed a good laugh this morning! Thanks! Mona
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Oh man! I’m so sorry that happened to you! I’d be distraught if I misplaced my favorite pair of “Davy” Dukes (my masculine term for the ever infamous Daisy Dukes since I’m a guy) that I wear just about everywhere other than work (or the pool – but even then I use them as a speedo cover to/from the pool so I’d be screwed anyway)!
Hope this has a happy ending for you! Good luck. I know some people might find being attached to a certain article of clothing strange, but I relate so hard.
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Thanks—I’m so happy to have found a kindred underwear spirit!
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LOL! Well mine is more outerwear, but I can relate to the feeling. They’re short enough to be underwear, though. I just hate long shorts, even though I’m a guy. No ventilation.
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Reblogged this on Michael Seidel, writer and commented:
Are you ready for a funny underwear story? I have none like this. Seems like nothing funny ever happens to me — or Suzanne has great skill at creating comedy out of anything.
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wait a sec — you mean you’ve had this underwear since early 90s? lol
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No, lol. This is the current lucky underwear. That bra was unfortunate so I tossed it away after “the incident”!
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ahhh – when a good underwear goes bad…
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Until you told us they had reappeared, I assumed your miscreants had escaped to a parallel pantoid universe where freed smalls go. I have it on good authority that all washing machines include a wormhole in the space-time continuum through which the desperate can pass. I have many sock twins that didn’t make it and now lie,, alone and abandoned in a basket near the dryer longing to rejoin their pair…
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The single socks are now worshipping my underwear like a small god😉
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It’s good to know they’ve found their niche
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The bra story had me laughing, Suzanne. I had a sock slip out of my pants leg at a restaurant. And once I wore my bathrobe to work. I used to put it on in the morning over my work clothes to keep them from getting covered in cat hair. That morning, I’d forgotten to take it off before getting into my coat. In the midst of a sea of cubicles, I took off my coat and was standing there in my blue terry-cloth bathrobe for the entire office’s enjoyment. I hope you find your lucky underwear at the next rainbow!
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Oh, that’s too funny!!
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I wish you the best of luck, and that the playful piece of underwear doesn’t appear on some awkward moment! (I’ve had my own awkward moments with underwear, so I know how you feel).
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Watch it reveal itself surrounded by a halo of lucky light, just when I need it😊
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You found it?
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Thankfully, yes!
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O, lucky woman! (ancient Greek chorus)
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I’ve written a post about these missing things… They’re all in the same place. Great stories though 😀
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It seems more and more that it’s a common problem!
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I think you’re right there…
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What I really want to know is did you get to watch a movie that night or did your expensive bra ruin that?
Not embarrassing, but along the lines of items gone missing, I lost my wedding ring a couple years ago. We live a full-time RV life and we searched our 30 ft rig top to bottom. There just wasn’t a lot of space for it to go, but we didn’t find it….then! Over a year later, after purchasing a new ring, I was pulling out a plastic grocery bag from one of those dispensers you store used ones in and out plopped my ring. I guess it had come off when I was stuffing bags in the top and took over a year to make it to the bottom.
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Ken did something similar with a ring once—he found it two months later in a pile of old work clothes!
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-giggles- Oh my…. Good luck!
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The irony here is that you’re more likely to find your lucky underwear under the talismanic auspices of your lucky underwear. Though I suppose if you know anyone who’s had a run of good luck recently, it might be safe to assume they’re wearing it!
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Would you believe I bought new underwear for our cruise and I realized later that it was Lucky brand? Each pair has a four leaf clover on it !
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High-larious! Thanks for the hard laughing fit. Whew, didn’t realize how much I needed one.😂
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Always happy to oblige!
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