Anecdote, Awkward, Girls, Humor, You're Fine

The Underwear Story

My story begins Saturday, February 11th. After a tearful goodbye to some of my pants, I ventured off to the mall with Tierney to hunt down some newbies. The first store we stumbled upon I was hesitant to enter. The overwhelming stench of perfume screamed, “You’re about to get a headache!” and the dungeon lighting left me uneasy. I hadn’t shopped in this store I will not name since I was a teenager, when I was much more brave and alive. But they were having a sale on jeans, so I took the risk and stepped in.

I dug through the layers and layers of folded jeans, unsure of my new size and feeling like an ass for not folding them back up properly. I pulled out a few pairs, and after some grunting, moaning, and sweating, I finally found the size that fits best. Out of breath and removing my upper lip sweat, I reassured Tierney I was in fact fine by yelling, “They zipped! They have zipped up! And I only had to fight them a little tiny bit.”

Accurate depiction of me trying to put on the jeans:


Once I made my careful selections, we walked up to the cashier, a young man possibly in his late teens or early twenties. I was not at all prepared for what was about to happen next.

“Since you are purchasing over $50 worth of merchandise, you get a free pair of underwear,” he said.

That’s kind of weird, but okay.


I was bit alarmed by this statement. The cashier and I stared at each other until I realized I actually had to respond.

“Oh…” was about all I could muster at that point.

“Do you know your *cough*…underwear…size?” He asked. I could feel the awkwardness intensify. I’ve never actually had a man, or any person, male or female, ask me for my underwear size. I don’t even let the pestering employees of Victoria’s Secret help me out. I’ve always been pretty confident in what I’m looking for when it comes to bras and underwear. And honestly, I don’t want them measuring my breasts in the middle of the store and then relaying the size to another employee through their headset like they’re on a mission to Mars.

Of course I know my size. But I made the situation even more awkward by painfully looking around, feeling my face turn fifteens shades of red, and hoping maybe the wall would answer for me.


After making a few babbling noises and trying my hardest not to burst out laughing, I whispered, “Uhhhhhhhhhhh….small. I’m a small…I guess.” He grabbed a random pair from the buckets behind him and held them out for me to inspect, except he fumbled them around nervously with his fingers because I honestly believe he was thinking, this horrific place doesn’t pay me enough to do this. I wanted to vomit. He stood there waiting for me to approve of the underwear he had chosen and I felt upper lip sweat forming once again and the desire to pass out in the middle of the store.

I looked at Tierney, who very conveniently picked a spot on the counter to stare at while waiting for this situation to be over. I think I even nudged her as a way of asking, “What do you think of this pair?” But then I realized she is not the one expected to wear them. I am.

The cashier waited patiently for my response, so I started throwing my arms around as a way of indicating I approve.


All I wanted in that moment was to pay for my stuff and run out of there. But of course, the card slider was taking an obnoxiously long time. I tapped my fingers and used my telekinesis abilities on the machine to approve my card at a more rapid pace than it was currently working in. Once the transaction was complete, I sprinted out of the store, removing my sweater since I’m sure my body sweat leaked through all of my clothes.

Tierney looked traumatized.

The underwear is still sitting in the bag, untouched. They will be forever untouched. Yes, I realize they were free and I should be thankful but I will not be able to slip into them without thinking of the guy who picked them out for me. I can’t do it.




30 thoughts on “The Underwear Story

  1. Issa says:

    this comment is not relate to the post but your blog title. see every time i get a notification that you have a new post up the first thing is see is the ‘You’re Fine’ and i smile because it feels like a reminder to me and i don’t know if that was the idea but lady thank you for titling your blog ‘You’re Fine’ because I am fine. 😃😃😃

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Uhhhhhh….. NO. No no no no no. Hand me the bin and let me find a pair myself OR if you’re feeling more humane, point me over to a dark corner where I can browse to my heart’s content. Do not pick a pair out for me! What the hell? There are few of us ballsy enough to be truthful and honest when you pick out something that we would never wear in a million years.

    Was this Hollister or A&F? The smell they pump through the air con system is a validated torture method…

    Liked by 3 people

    • Hahahah damn you caught on. It was Hollister…I usually can’t stand shopping there but the jeans were so cheap! Yeah I’m not sure why the guy felt the need to pick a pair out for me. I think they gave me a perfume sample too but I’d rather not smell like a 14 year old girl.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Hahaha yeah it’s not exactly a smart idea. It would be one thing if it was an actual lingerie store but even then, they would normally let me pick it out and not the other way around.


  3. I’ll be honest. I really wish the cashier also had a blog and wrote about his version of this. That poor guy has to pick underwear out for women to choose. I won’t even guess a woman’s age or weight, let alone what her panty personality is. Haha

    Liked by 2 people

    • No, Kristen. THE MAN picked from the underwear bucket. Although, if he handed me the bucket so that I could choose, it would still be embarrassing. Picking out underwear is a personal matter!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. commutingwithkristen says:

    NO. Okay 1) Not sure how I misread that because I went back and clearly you wrote that the poor not-paid-enough man chose for you from the underwear bucket. And 2) Imma have to add one more NOPE to this whole situation.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Hahahaha oh man. I’m kinda shocked the guy didn’t use tongs to pass them to you. Or they should’ve had like one of those arcade machines where you have to use a joystick to pick up something. That would’ve been fun.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. That is really weird. For starters, I just think it’s odd that you get free underwear for spending $50. That seems random. Then for the life of me I cannot understand why you can’t pick the underwear yourself. The cashier has to choose them for you to wait for your approval. So odd.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. While reading this, I started wondering what the guy could have done to make the interraction even passably not horrifying. If it was me, I would have just said “congraulations – we have this awful offer where I get to offer you some of these for free – here” (and I would lift the entire bucket up for you do have a look and discreetly drop some into your bag). I would meanwhile look at the ceiling the entire time, while somebody else robbed the contents of the checkout.

    Liked by 1 person

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