Wet Underwear

So there are many lessons you learn on the way adulthood, more so when you fly the nest from things like replenishing the toilet roll, to turning the fridge settings to really cold so that I have icy cold beers will actually turn your fridge into a scene from ice age (at least it gives you an excuse to eat all the food in one go and do it all again......cold beers are worth it). However there are some things that fall in between, which brings me to why I was calling my mum at 8:00am on a Sunday morning asking what to do, possibly with the faintest sound of distress to my voice.

It all began on a Saturday morning when I was getting ready for work, and as you already know I’m not too keen on socks and the same goes underwear but as I was off to work I thought I would make the effort. Now here lies the problem, I don’t really own that many pairs so I had to grab a pair that was drying and weren’t getting any closer to becoming dry, which at the time didn’t seem like a big deal as they were going to dry at some point. This is pretty much where it all went wrong and as the day turned into some sort Ben Stiller style rom-com.

Firstly my thighs and bum became to feel very uncomfortable whilst at work but I just passed it off as underwear bunching (one of lifes most annoying things!) but as the day went on it became unavoidable. Breaking point came as I was having some dinner with the girlfriend at our favourite place, where I gingerly walked off coming back with my pants in my pocket, passing them under the table for her to put in her bag (she protested slightly and called me a few names, until she realised she is dating a man-child and this isn’t that out of the ordinary). Now I am in a lot of pain and in a very public place fidgeting and getting told off, but the next stop is the cinema (pre paid tickets) to see everyone’s favourite emotional vampire saga (let’s be honest he does cry a bit too much).

So I am now heading into possibly the only Odeon which checks your bags as you walk in (probably due to my uncomfortable face and fidgety posture) but low and behold all he finds is my underwear in the girlfriends bag, who is now cutting a very embarrassed figure, which is rapidly turning into my boyfriend is an idiot. None the less we grab some popcorn and head in. The film is painful to watch, I’m in pain and like a fool I opted to try their new lemon and chilli flavour popcorn and said no to a pic n mix (who does that......this rash is obviously effecting my judgement) but the girlfriend ever the wise one in her cinema grub choice choose well so I steal hers........she’s really not happy with me now but I play the sympathy card after watching soppy vampires for 2 hours.

We get up to go and it dawns on me that I can’t actually walk and now I’m walking like 80year old man with the girlfriend looked pretty peeved, so we get a taxi back so she can inspect in affected areas.....it’s not good so some sort of cream is applied and I lay on the woe is me pretty heavy. Next thing I know I’m ringing mum up asking what do I do???? And relaying this onto the girlfriend who has to take time out of her day to get some special cream and bring it to me at work. So the lesson learnt is that don’t wear wet underwear, no one ever said it would have such serious repercussions and oh yeah make it up to the girlfriend.