#376 My Brief Dissertation

I had occasion recently to purchase some briefs. I play racquetball, and unable to wear the spandex, thigh-length, accoutrement of basketball players, I elect to secure myself otherwise. For racquetball is nothing if not an active sport, and it goes without saying that the boxers I normally attire my nether regions with would be wholly inadequate to the task of preventing errant balls from causing damage. I’ve been hit by fifty-mile-an-hour balls in just about every location, and see no reason to tempt fate when the play gets hot. So I employ ordinary off-the-shelf mid-rise briefs for the security detail. Or de-front as the case may be. And I noticed something odd. I bought the briefs in two-packs. Hmm, they should market them to other sports players for the same purpose—securing themselves—and they could call it two-pack secure. In any event, they appeared to be cheaper that way. Always a consideration for the budget conscious brief buyer. The packet was arranged in such a way that the front brief was folded over the other brief, exposing only a small portion of its waistband. A less attentive buyer would assume that both briefs were the same color. As I am more attentive, I attempted to pry the briefs apart through the plastic and get a glimpse of the brief underneath. To no avail. No amount of worrying and twisting and sliding would dislodge the inside brief from its secret niche. The store clerk started giving me odd looks, I suppose seeing someone wrestling with a packet of underwear was a little disconcerting, so I ceased my investigative endeavors, paid and left. When I opened them at home, low and behold, the inside briefs were all hideous patterns and colors. I had bought three packets—two apparently black, one apparently navy. The external ones that is. The internal ones were all some hideous, revolting, garish, stripe and color arrangement that looked like linear dog vomit. When the pattern’s so bad you don’t even want it on a garment no one is likely to ever see you know it’s bad. Thank goodness I was only going to use them at the gym. God forbid I should get in a fatal accident and have to have the hospital personnel cutting them off my lifeless body. So the question of the day is: If they feel like they have to hide it in order for you to buy it, why did they make it in the first place? Did they get a deal on the fabric? Was the fabric maker on drugs that day, or were they taste disabled? If some people like the pattern better, why weren’t any of the patterns in front, in plain view for the tasteless public to be able to pick. Wouldn’t it be a lot easier to package all black or all navy and all hideous? Why did they force me to take a butt-ugly brief with every good one? It’s like a restaurant telling you: Sorry sir, the only side dish you can get with the delicious mouthwatering burger is the Brussels sprouts. America, ya gotta love it.