Panties

The cashier stared incredulously at the panties on the conveyer belt for a moment, then she looked at me. She looked at the panties. She looked at me. She looked down again at the very nice (if I do say so myself) panties I had carefully chosen from the store rack a moment before, then returned her confused gaze to me.

"These aren't yours". She said very matter of factly with a deep south Florida... drawl feels like the wrong word. Twang?  Help me out with this one.

Realizing that this woman had broken protocol by stating a question with a tone of judgement in her voice, along with the potential for an inside joke with myself and a funny blog post, I allowed my mouth to form a lazy smile and said...

"Actually, they are"

I continued to smile lazily while she awkwardly retracted her judgement before telling her that they were actually for my wife, who's panties had met an untimely death at the hands of one of my children who decided to dry them along with a load of freshly washed dog blankets and bedding.

The ladies behind me laughed a sigh of relief, which prompted the thought - how much more awkward would it have been if they were for me?

A moment before I was standing in line in cargo shorts, grey tennis shoes, a nice printed shirt, with a freshly shaven bald head,  a two week beard, and glasses innocently holding nothing but panties...

The aforementioned two women behind me had approached mid conversation, and boy, it was an interesting point of a conversation to approach a group of strangers with.

Woman 1: Were ya'll trying?
Woman 2: No, but he kept telling me that he'd change if I was pregnant.
W1: Yeah, they all say that.
W2: I just wish he'd a been different.
W1: Well, don't you worry, I've got a bucket full of strawberries soaking in some 90 proof. We're gonna make you forget all about him.
W2: Yeah,  I guess.

Aaaand that's when cashier lady decided to judge my apparent life choices.

People are hurting,  folks.

Also,  never question a man buying panties.