Last night I was watching Hung and a line jumped out at me, inspiring me to ask you all a somewhat personal question. In return for your honest answers I'll share an embarrassing TMI story from my mis-spent youth. Deal? Ok, in Hung a female character admits to stealing the guy's underpants after bedding him, and she claims that it's a common practice and "who among us hasn't had our underwear stolen after a hook-up?"
Who, indeed?
Have you ever had your underwear go missing after a romp? Tell me true - I promise not to judge!
Now, to answer my own question. In a word, yes. Yes, I've woken up and haven't been able to find my knickers despite crawling around on my hands and knees and frisking the bedsheets. Yeah, I've been there.
I was twenty and heartbroken, you see. Back story: I don't think I'd ever labored under the delusion that my then-bf and I were going to get married or anything like that, but I was still blind-sided when he broke up with me early in the summer after our first year at different colleges. I thought we'd at least spend the summer banging each other and would break up before our sophomore years started, but no. He fell for some chick (the one he eventually married) and I was stuck hocking overpriced hippie clothes and jewelry at a boutique in my po-dunk town because I'd decided to come home for the summer... to be with him.
Bitter? Yes, yes I was. First chance I could, I hopped into my (t)rusty Subaru and went back to Burlington for a weekend sans parental units. My friend C was renting a room at, of all places, her cousin's frat house. You can see where this is going, yes? C and I partied it up that weekend with a couple of guys she knew from the house, and by Saturday night it was clear that I'd landed the short muscular dude and the taller guy was hers.
This guy was cute, but not my type at all. He was barely my height (5'7") and stocky, he had the short, powerful build of a wrestler and the vocabulary to match, but I honestly didn't care. As I looked at him through narrowed eyes that night I decided that it just didn't matter - I was horny and angry and he'd do. A few more shots of tequila and I didn't object when he tossed me over his broad shoulder (!) like a caveman and carted me off to his room.Turns out he was short everywhere, which was a disappointment - but I'm not a quitter - so I stifled my giggles and carried on. The sex was... well. Ok, I'm being honest here - the sex was terrible. When it was over I felt more annoyed than anything else; I'd finally gone and had a real-life one night stand it it sucked. Go, me!
The next morning I woke up alone and heard him in the bathroom, so I seized the opportunity to quickly gather my clothes. Bra - check, t-shirt and shorts - check, black silky panties? Hmmm.... Not under the bed. Not in the bed. Not on the floor. Why were they not in my shorts - I knew they had come off at the same time! Crap! Out of time! Just throw on the shorts and get the heck outta dodge!
We hugged awkwardly and I took his number but didn't give mine, and I can honestly say that over the next three years at college I never saw him again, and that was a-ok by me. Another thing I never saw again? My undies.
Your turn. Ever misplace your undies or have them taken as a "trophy?" Ever stolen a pair?
Spill.
