Saturday, November 5, 2011

Things that deserve the stink-eye:

Look. Even my shoe looks confused. 
It's difficult to see but the waistband on those cotton boxers in the picture reads fruit-of-the-loom.

Before I go any further, I must say: they are not mine, they are not my son's and I am almost positive they do not belong to the bank manager next door, nor the sweet elderly couple on the other side of my house.

That said, er, why the hell were some guy's size medium underwear lying on the street on my block on my walk to work yesterday? (We know they were size medium because we poked them with a stick.)

And you know what else is weird? Isn't it curious how some everyday type objects suddenly gain this odd power when they are out of context? For example, boxers on the laundry room floor? Expected. Boxers poking out of a suitcase at the airport? No big whoop. Boxers used as wall art at house-parties in University? Typical. But huck your boxers on the road? It's just too random. It's, uber-random. They become like road kill. People are afraid to touch them. Vehicles detour around them. (Even the dogs in the neighbourhood must have avoided them because they were still there on the road when I returned from work at the end of the day.) And yup, people *coughs* even take pictures and blog about them.

These sorts of things ignite my imagination. It's like speculation overload. It's like some sort of hypothesize-a-thon. It's a writer-thing isn't it? It's like the opening for some great mishap-filled novel. Five potential novel openers:

  1. "Take them off HERE?"
  2. The first object to hit the ground was a pair of cotton boxers.
  3. "Honey? I think your underwear fell out of my purse."
  4. One might have assumed she drove into the tree in her front yard because her toddler son in the backseat had punched his now-whimpering older brother in the head yet again, but no, it was because she was distracted by the men's cotton boxers lying on the street in front of her house. She knew those boxers.
  5. My feet just took control. I pressed on the brake. Put my Jeep in park. Unzipped my pants. Struggled out of my jeans. Stripped off my boxers. Opened the window. Loaded the waistband like a sling-shot. And fired my underwear at her driveway.

Sadly, this is one novel I will likely never read. This mystery will probably remain a question mark.

And speaking of questions, did I mention that for the past few days here the temperature has rarely been above zero degrees Celsius? Not exactly a good time to shed one's gonch.

#shrunkenfruitsoftheloom
#frozengrapes

26 comments:

Mel said...

Definitely a...head scratcher...

Vinny C said...

Maybe # 4 goes:

One might have assumed she drove into the tree in her front yard because her toddler son in the backseat had punched his now-whimpering older brother in the head yet again. This time, however, was different. This time, she watched in horror through the rear-view mirror as her toddler instead proceeded to beat his older brother senseless, strip him of all his clothes & defiantly throw his boxers out the rear window. It was at that point that she realized what needed to be done and steered the car toward the tree.

I might read that.

Kelly said...

You are a true writer! I love all your story-lines. This reminds me of the time when in my youth I discovered a brown paper grocery bag filled with underwear, slips and bras in a wooded area behind my house. Makes one wonder doesn't it? I am still scratching my head to this day.

Munk said...

They might be magic.

Sub-Radar-Mike said...

Hey! Free underwear! Just run them under the tap for a couple of seconds and strap those badboys on!

Alistair said...

No officer, I don't drive naked from the waist down. I was wearing those boxers, but when that beautiful woman stepped in front of the car I hit the brakes so hard my ass was right off the seat. I guess the sudden loss of momentum whipped them right down my legs and I must've unknowingly kicked them off when I got out to see if she was all right.

She said I what?

No sir I NEVER threw them out of the window at her!!!

SherilinR said...

i really like the one where he slingshots them at her driveway. makes me wonder if they were a gift, a threat, a promise, a joke. so many wacky possiblities.
i might read vinny's book too. though it might just be the opening for the next "incredibles" movie. that jack jack is probably getting pretty powerful by now.

Alistair said...

I hit something while in the car a few weeks ago but luckily, when I got out to check, it was just a white handkerchief. That was quite a relief.

I though for a minute I'd run over a baby ghost!

Angelina said...

She check lost and found on Kijiji desperate to see if anyone posted a note for a men's medium size, somewhat bluish pair of nondescript boxers shorts. She knew It was a long shot, But, damn she thought, What was I thinking...

dbs said...

I just love all you people.

Al Penwasser said...

So THAT'S where the damn things went.
Man, that's the last time I go drinking.

Always Home and Uncool said...

A neighbor once sent an email round saying she didn't appreciate whomever left the empty beer cans and red panties in her yard. Seriously. The culprit could have left at least one full beer.

Alistair said...

Are we all so busy thinking about a pair of blue boxers on the street when maybe we should be thinking of the poor guy who's running around with no undercrackers on in November for pities sake!

Brrrrrr........

karensomethingorother said...

Well! I have to tell you a small story then that just might solve your riddle.

Pardon me taking up space here in your comments section, but I am compelled.

When I was 18 and taking Driver's Ed with all the 16 year olds, I ate my dinner one night, and hastily changed into the jeans I'd worn the day before and raced off for my evening class.

When I arrived, this snooty younger girl said; "um, excuse me--there's something sticking out of the bottom of your pants."

I realised in horror it was the gitch I'd worn the day before, and had peeled off with the pants as one unit. As I'd hustled to school, the underpants had shimmied down my pant leg.

My face turned bright red, and I feigned a laugh, as I quickly balled up the underwear, and I said;

"Oh my god--it's a SOCK--ha ha ha!"

She didn't look convinced.

And I died a little bit.

So, now when I see random gotch on the road or sidewalk, I figure there has to be at LEAST a few other people who have lived what I lived.

Windsmoke. said...

I reckon you've got a streaker stalking you street at night :-).

Pickleope said...

Gonch? Learned something new. Maybe dude forgot he put the laundry on the roof? Or, he...wet himself and tried drying them by hanging them out the window, then lost his grip. Or he was walking home from the laundromat and realized those weren't his. Or, a skydiver was getting a wedgie and needed to cast them off and they drifted to Earth in front of your house.

Antares Cryptos said...

5 is my fave, but won't be reading that novel either. Unless you wrote it.

"Don't need those," said the werewolf.

The Gaelic Wife said...

Grapes? Are you self-describing? Is that what Canadian winters do to you?

Oh, yeah, the boxers. One sees odd things on the way to work around here too. Like the single tennis shoe on the median strip at the traffic light. It stayed for three full days. I know because a friend took a phone photo every morning on the way to work and uploaded the shoe picture on FB. Why don't you do the same? See how long it takes the boxers to disappear.

Alittlesprite said...

We used to have random underclothes turn up in our front yard. No mystery though... It was my kleptomaniac cat!

Alittlesprite said...

I gave you kudos for inspiring my next post :)

Michael said...

The power of imagination at work. Superpower.

Interesting dialect note:
People from SK say "gonch"
People from AB say "ginch"
Children add "-ies" to the end of their choice of word (e.g., I lost my ginchies last night. I don't know where. I woke up and they were gone.)

dbs said...

@Michael Absolutely true. I'm from Saskatchewan yet my wife from Alberta says "ginch."

The Chicken's Consigliere said...

Well, if they were size 4T I would suspect something along the lines of an itchy tag in the waistband. But size medium...hmmm. If I read on another blog about some guy in Canada losing his last pair of clean bloggers (because I'm just going to assume that, ok?), I will send him to your blog. I love that you started making up stories. I do that all the time. I have a particular curiosity about a guy that walks down my street yelling at the top of his lungs. Not because he is yelling-he is ill-he has always done this-but where does he go when he disappears for awhile? Once he disappeared for a year. I thought he might have died. I was so happy to see him again but I do not know how to save him from his voices. I wish I did. Wait. We were talking about underwear, right?

Teachinfourth said...

Always a mystery...

Karen Peterson said...

I think the answer is obvious. They belonged to a vampire who stayed out after the sun came up.

A Lady Reveals Nothing said...

Gonch. Love it.

Also I love that you poked them with a stick.

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