I’m trying something new. Not wearing underpants.
Let me explain where I got this idea:
I’m going to a very small dinner party for a friend of mine. It is her 60th birthday and it is a surprise party. It’s held in a restaurant, right in the middle of the big stadium area in San Diego, and unbeknownst to us, it is the night of the Huge Mexican/Argentinean Soccer Game at the stadium. Which has not much to do with the story about my underwear. Well, maybe nothing at all to do with underpants, actually but, let me set the scene.
My sisters, Barbara and Candy (Sister Polly is in Italy) and several friends have tried all week to find a nice restaurant for a birthday dinner. That is almost impossible because Leslie, The Birthday Girl, not understanding that this is a surprise party for her, keeps rejecting all her mother’s suggestions for dinner at any restaurant we suggest to her mom.
We have constraints. Like, Leslie won’t eat almost everything and she is almost blind and only drives with her 85 year old mother who reads the road signs to her. So, we girls want to keep the party close to her home!
We finally find a restaurant that Leslie wants, but then some of us ‘girls’ have to get there from North County (about an hour away) and we don’t know at the time, about the HUGE soccer game and the state of the freeways that we will encounter.
Plus, the day isn’t going so well.
I have driven an hour to the coast for an appointment and can never find the place. I am mightily pissed. I then drive back inland to the car pool meeting spot where we (my sister Candy and her friend Stephanie) will meet and car pool to the party. I have to wait 2 hours for them to join me….because I am not at my appointment where I should have been.
When we pile into Candy’s car for the ride downtown, we are all sweaty and kind of mean. Candy is upset about the whole week of trying to find the right restaurant and Stephanie, our friend, has had a horrific day and wants to quit her job, like right now. It is one of those kinds of days.
Then, it starts to rain. It is a cold rain. It ‘never’ rains in June in San Diego and we are in tiny little summer outfits and sandals.
But, our snappiness propels us down the heavily congested freeways and we finally get to the restaurant. Our hair is all frizzed up from the rain and we are chilled and damp. We meet our sister Barbara there, who’s hair is also as frowsy and thick as a dog blanket. Our friend Connie who has flown in from up north, is here to surprise Leslie.
Ok, let’s not string this party out. Let me just say at one point while we are having dinner, ‘Pretty, Blonde, Divorced, Childless Connie’, who I have not seen in many years, mentions that she has not worn underpants since 1979.
I am amazed. I suck a hanging salad leaf into my mouth and say, ‘but…but…what if you leak, or something?’
Connie says, “Oh, I just stick panty-liners in my jeans or whatever. It is so nice. No panty lines. No fat pouching out under the panties. And, it saves a LOT of money on panties. I threw out all my underpants in 1979 so I think I shall retire on all that money I have saved.”
Then, she goes on to say, ” But, I didn’t do this on my own. I learned it from a lovely woman I worked with. She was tall and beautiful and we worked at the airlines, together. She never had a panty line. So, as of 1979 I also stopped wearing panties.”
After the party, I go home and think about Connie and her no-pantie proclamation.
I decide I will try it and I email and tell her so.
She emails back, “Be FREE of panties if you so choose! It will save you lots of money and might spark up your love life!”
I email back the next day and say, “Hey, I got some ‘liddle’ tiny panty liners today and I will be trying them out inside my jeans. Oooh Laa La Connie, you may have changed my life. I hope the ‘liddle’ panty liner doesn’t creep down my leg.”
Connie emails back and says, “It takes practice.”
Well, I have tried the no-panty thing for two days, now and I haven’t had any wedgies and I feel thinner. I really think our panties must add a good pound or two.
I also feel kind of breezy in the butt and fine in my mind. Like ‘Ha Ha, I am getting away with something wicked that you don’t know about!”
I wave gaily to a man in the grocery parking lot. He waves back and grins and shouts Hello. I swish my naked butt.
I am telling you about this panty business because I had a woman friend over for tea the other day. During the telling of some sad stories she said, “You know Venus, we take care of the men in our lives and we take care of our kids and we take care of our parents and who takes care of us?”
We looked at each other over our cups of tea and she said, “We women take care of each other.”
And, so, I am taking care of you, My Lady Friends.
I never had the thought to ditch my under pants until Connie told me about the freedom you can get from that ditching. I am now passing this bit of advice on to you. I may not be a Hillary Clinton, leading women resolutely on to equality and freedom, but I can do my bit with the underwear advice.
And as for you guys? Hey, maybe you should try it, too?
Let’s all do our part to keep America FREE!
WINNER OF THE RANDOM DRAWING FOR A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS: *.* Offer null and void after June 14th, 2008 (To participate in the drawings make sure you are signed up. Go to the home page www.godisalwayshappy.com and click on ; ‘Free Sessions and More’.)