You Should Probably be Jealous of My Underpants

This is going to be hard for me to explain to you – accurately explain this feeling to its fullest potential – how happy I am sitting here, sitting here right now in my new underwear.

They’re incredible. They’re soft. God. They’re even stretchy (soft and stretchy!).

Oh man.

I won’t even tell you where I got them because I don’t want you depleting the already limited supply of the world’s best, most comfiest underpants. Tomorrow I’m going back for more. For all of them.

Onto why this warrants discussion/any thought at all. Up until yesterday I could not find a decent pair of underwear anywhere, so I had been living without them entirely for quite some time. And I had been searching for months, years, just for that one pair, that one pair of perfect undies.

So I cast my net far and wide and noticed a startling, alienating trend: a majority of boxers, briefs, boxer-briefs, etc. are now made without an opening to, um, access yourself… like, a man’s self. (This is awkward.) Dudes out there - dudes you probably know or even sit next to - are buying underwear without easy/any admittance to themselves. They’re basically wearing Speedos or big Baby Jesus diapers beneath their pants.

“Now how the hell does this work?” I thought. I felt clueless, like I had missed out on some important lesson/trick that my dad failed to teach me. Why would I not want the opening? I’ve known it all my life! Am I going to drop trou every time I’m in the restroom? I certainly can’t let my coworkers see me in there with my pants around my ankles now, can I? So what gives? Are more males popping a squat for the ol’ No. 1 like the ladies do? Or maybe they just go on themselves?

I’m fascinated, really, you can tell.

I was left with the following options:

1. Buy said skivvies and fashion openings with my box cutter, perhaps adding buttons later on (and learning how to sew in the process).

2. Continue as is, opting out of undergarments altogether.

3. Move on with my quest for the ultimate underwear.

Can you guess which one I chose? Wait, you already know the answer to that one don’t you? I moved on. My search ended when I entered STORE NAME WITHHELD (strange, never liked going in there). At first I was bummed to find plenty of underwear that would seal a gent off to the outside world. But then I noticed a limited selection of pairs with nice little diagrams on their packaging, indicating there was a diagonal opening for me to use. Joy! After examining the fabric, they also seemed like they’d be very cozy and not make me feel like I was being held hostage down there.

I got them, a bunch of them, and now I’m going back for the rest. Revel in my triumph, America! I’m going to be the only man on the block to own 26 pairs of this country’s holiest underwear.