I wasn’t even looking for underpants, but something drew my eyes to the underwear section of the website I was looking at. For some strange reason, I could not take my eyes off what was in front of me.
Before you ask, it was an entirely safe and well-known website but, one hour and forty-five minutes later, there was still nothing in my checkout basket. Had I really spent all that time admiring all the eye-candy underpants on offer, or had I fallen asleep at the computer, bored at the prospect of buying what I had intended coming here for?
It wasn’t long before I started asking myself questions such as why do the eye-candy models have to be semi-naked when modelling underpants? I even discovered that when I hovered my mouse over one of the models, he would spin around for me and show me the view from behind. That’s quite a handy little tool, don’t you think? How many times have you asked yourself what your ‘Mr Man’ socks look like when viewed from behind?
Then I asked myself if I would have been spending as much time as I was in the men’s underwear section of this website if all the models were like our postman, Pete? (or ‘Pop it in Pete’, as I like to call him). He can be very chatty when he hands me something too large to go through the slot. However, I decided that I’d asked myself a difficult question, so I moved on and remembered what I had come to the website for.
Before I knew it, I started asking myself if Pete would spend as much time as me in the men’s underwear section of this website? Probably not, given that he’s told me about his two grownup daughters, although he does like listening to Kylie and watching ‘Will and Grace’ on a Friday night.
Pete wasn’t a good example so I wondered if our plumber, Roger, would spend as much time as I was in the men’s underwear section? Do tradesmen like going shopping for themselves given, that when I worked in retail, some men leave it until the last minute to buy that perfect gift for their wife/girlfriend/partner? Knowing that Roger doesn’t like shopping, which he mentioned to me whilst nibbling on a whole packet of custard creams, would he ever buy his own underpants?
Shaking thoughts of Pete and Roger from my head, I then noticed that most of the underpants on the website were on sale. Great, I could bag myself a bargain before looking for that item I’d come here to buy. Now, this is when the real problems started because there were so many shapes and styles of underpants, to keep your crown jewels safe, that I really started getting confused.
Boxers, briefs, V-shaped, hipster, ribbed (ribbed? I thought you only found ribbed on—) trunks, G-String, jocks; the list seemed endless. I decided that it would be better for me to go to the shopping centre (because I’d be told that men’s underpants were down in Marks & Spencer) and try on all these different styles of underpants so I would know which suited me and the crown jewels best.
My trip to Marks & Spencer was short-lived when an elderly lady, who had evidently mistaken me for a shop assistant, approached me and asked, “where do you keep your knickers, love?” When I was later told that I was not allowed to try on any of the underwear for hygienic reasons (I did explain to the lady outside the men’s changing rooms that I had showered before coming out), coming to a shopping centre to do my shopping was a mistake. I decided to head home again and do what I always do when it comes to shopping – do it online!
By this time, the whole day had just about disappeared, and I decided I didn’t need to buy any underpants after all because I’d had some given to me for Christmas! Phew, that was lucky, but then I started asking myself how Santa always got the size right?
Gentlemen – do you encounter any of these problems when buying your underpants, or do you save time and get somebody to buy them for you?
Ladies – who is the buyer of the underpants for the men in your household, and do you encounter as many problems as I do when shopping for underpants?
My recent post, The Trouble With Chocolate, where I dissected a commercial for a bar of Galaxy chocolate (Dove in the U.S.A), which features an Audrey Hepburn look-a-like, had me wondering what on earth happened to Audrey after she got in that strange man’s car.
HERE IS THE COMMERCIAL AGAIN before I give you my version of what I think happened. Have a look at it, and then allow me to pick up the story for you.
The cool breeze passed Audrey’s face. The area around her mouth, now covered with chocolate, felt a little stiff but smelled heavenly.
She looked down as the stranger driving the car stared at her through the rear-view mirror. His eyes were a deep, dark brown, almost the same colour as the chocolate smothered across her face. She looked up again and wondered why he was driving a right-hand drive vehicle when they were in Italy? Then she remembered, but the answer disappeared as quickly as the chocolate had, once she had got the wrapper off. She still held the world record for eating a bar of Galaxy.
The stranger could not take his eyes off her, narrowly missing a group of chickens and a lady balancing a wheelbarrow on one eyebrow while standing on one leg. Even with her face and dress covered in melted chocolate, he still thought she was beautiful.
He remembered the day he had seen her buying that dress. Blowing kisses at him, she had flirted with him in front of other customers in the shop while he strolled around looking for somewhere to sit down. Then, unfortunately, he had mistakenly walked into a double D cup being worn by a mannequin at least a foot taller than him. The bra had made direct contact with his right eyeball, causing to him shout “ouch” and startle several other customers. By the time he had wiped away the tears, she had gone into the fitting room.
I’ll have to buy a new pair of gloves, she thought to herself, after using them to wipe away the chocolate off her face. Oh, how she wished somebody had invented stain remover. Then she thought she’d try to get away with giving them a quick rinse under the garden tap. “Damn!” she said to herself, having remembered she’d forgotten to bring her heartburn tablets off the old man sitting next to her on the bus.
The stranger blew her a kiss in the rear-view mirror, and she raised a hand to catch it, but a gust of wind caught one of the loose gloves in her hand, and she turned her head and watched it come to rest on the road. He did not stop the car, for he was full of excitement and wanted to get her to the other side of the hill as quickly as he could. He had big plans for the evening, so he put a little more pressure on the accelerator pedal.
No words had passed between them when the car finally came to a stop. He looked at her once more through the rear-view mirror while she picked up her handbag and fumbled inside it. She finally looked up at the building, now in front of her, her glance immediately going to the upstairs windows where she knew the excitement would begin. She felt so excited by the thought of what was about to happen; the heartburn tablets and the woman with the yellow bowl stuck on her head on the bus no longer mattered.
He finally got out of the driver’s seat and walked around, opening the door for her so she could step out. She was totally unaware that the wrapper from the chocolate bar was stuck to the back of her dress as she rose herself up from the back seat.
He put out his hand to help her out, and melted chocolate passed from her hand to his. The excitement for both was now nearing take off. It would not be long before they were inside the beautiful villa where all the waiting would finally come to an end. She looked up at him as he wiped his hand on the back of her dress.
“Why did you accelerate so quickly to get us here? I was enjoying the ride,” she romantically whispered to him.
Putting his solid and rugged arms around her and looking her straight in the eyes, the stranger finally spoke to her.
“The soft top of the car hood is stuck again, and the garage couldn’t fix it. Plus, I think there’s rain on the way because my knees have gone a little stiff. I’m off to watch the football. Stick the car in the garage will you before you have your bath. Your mother is dropping off the kids in ten minutes, and the dog needs walking.”
Audrey’s chocolate-scented bubble bath would have to wait.