Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Mystery BAU's

I live in a condo. While there are many things I like about living in a condo (e.g., no mowing, no shoveling), there's one thing I really dislike: community laundry. I'm borderline OCD and a neat-freak to begin with, so when I start to think about my clothes being washed in the same washer that all of my weirdo neighbors are using, I start to sweat. Profusely. This feeling is exacerbated when I think about the fact that the following individuals all live on my floor: an elderly woman who often smells like she's wearing a diaper, a raging alcoholic who often wears t-shirts with dried vomit stains on them, and a stripper. No, I'm not joking.

Whenever it's time for me to put a load in the washer or dryer, I'm usually pretty diligent about inspecting each appliance to make sure there aren't any stray diapers or thongs that were accidentally left behind. But apparently my inspections are not always perfect.

Last week I was folding some clothes and found a pair of undies that I assumed were Jill's. Why did I assume they were Jill's? Simply because they weren't mine, that's why. This is a very important part of the story: I didn't inspect the panties; I just noticed that they weren't mine, so by default they had to be Jill's, right? Umm...wrong!

A couple of days ago, Jill was getting dressed and digging through her drawer in my closet. Suddenly she discovered The Panties That Weren't Hers. And then all h-e-double hockey sticks broke out.

"Whose are these?" she screamed, holding them up for me to see.

That's when I noticed them for the first time. They were big. Like, really, really big. Like, XXL big.

Now I was in a bit of a predicament. I knew Jill would be offended if I said I thought they were hers, but I also knew she'd be outraged if I said they were another woman's. I decided to offend rather than outrage.

"Umm...yours?" I replied, sheepishly.

Wrong decision. Jill was clearly more outraged over the idea that I thought she wore XXL grandma skivvies than she would have been over the idea that another woman's underwear found its way into my closet.

The moral of the story: I need to get my own washer and dryer.

Jill's Take: Frankly, I do not know how these underpants could have been mistaken for mine. I mean, I will admit that I have a few pairs of pretty drab undies, but they all FIT ME. And none of them go so high as to cover my belly button or potentially reach my boobs. So when I looked at these things, two possibilities crossed my mind: 1) Jack is cheating on me. With a very large grandmother-type; or 2) JACK THINKS I'M FAT. Since I am too delightful for Jack to want to cheat on me, and since he isn't desperate enough to date the owner of those underwear anyway, I ruled out #1 and determined that clearly Jack thought those undies were actually mine. RUDE. But I guess better than being cheated on?


Rock Chef said...

Definitely better than being cheated on.

Reminds me of something that happened to me long long ago...

Anonymous said...

This has happened to me also. I have community laundry as well and I'm always half inclined to run a load of bleach through first and pay for it, before putting my stuff in. Ick! :)

I say every girl has some "comfort" panties for those bloaty days, but big, fuck-off granny panties? No.

Anonymous said...

I think the important part of the story for Jill to appreciate is that her boyfriend not only does his only laundry, but does hers as well.

You can call me, 'Sir' said...

Let me put myself in Jack's place for a moment:

I pick up some strange, enormous underwear and I think, 'I don't know whether or not these are Jill's, but even if they are, no. Just, no.' Then I throw them away. Actually, I burn them.

I would not put them in Jill's drawer and wait for the KERPOW to show up when she finds them.

Lil' Woman said...

Ah Jack, your misadventures are always amusing! :)

mj said...

I LOVE this story.

Anonymous said...

best. story. ever.


Anonymous said...

Certainly better than him cheating... I wonder if the woman even noticed she was missing undies. I'm not sure why I wonder that...

Hollywood Sucker said...

Sometimes a pair of underwear will get left behind in our laundry room and someone will kindly leave it out on the table, so it can be reclaimed. Only it usually winds up sitting there for a week before it randomly just disappears. Did its owner finally find it? Did SOMEONE ELSE take it? Was it just thrown out?

I think too much about everything.

Jill said...

This is hilarious! I think i'd be more angry thinking that Jack was cheating on me if I found those undies though.

My name's Jill and I always joke that i'm "looking for my Jack" to marry haha.

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