Here’s the thing, some of us have little tushes. And some of us are graced with more generous badonkadonks. Thanks DNA. Why is it that for men, bigger is better, and for women it’s the bane of our existence? I often wish someone would tell me a joke that’s so good I would laugh my ass off… literally.
The truth is I wouldn’t care so much if it weren’t for the problem I have with underwear, or as they say on Jersey Shore, underwears. Not that I watch that show. Fine, I watch it, but in my defense I was much younger when I got hooked on it. Whatta you mean it just came out in 2010? Seriously? But I digress. Like I was saying, a round derriere wouldn’t be so bad if the underwear didn’t always creep up into it. It’s like the roundness just guides my underpants into the center.
Just the other day I was riding in an elevator having a very rare moment to myself (if I had more than tic tacs in my purse I would have pulled the emergency stop button to hang out solo for a few days). For the first time in years I was completely alone and it was the perfect opportunity to do something I hadn’t done in forever— pick my wedgie. So I didn’t just do it. I went for it. Dig, yank, grab, pull, stretch, adjust, readjust, ohhh yeahhhh. Boy did I seize the moment. Just as the heavens were opening up and the angels were singing, I glanced up and noticed something I hadn’t noticed before. A security camera. Whoopsies. So instead of getting off in the lobby, I rode back up to the top floor and jumped off the roof. I’ll be writing the rest of this blog from my hospital bed because apparently I can’t even manage to die from embarrassment correctly.
Thankfully I failed because the other day, everything changed. I discovered something that would alter my life forever. Naturally it was from the best store on earth— Target. Or as I like to call it, God’s gift to women. Sorry, George Clooney, you’ve been replaced. It’s literally impossible to buy one thing at Target, so I was looking for something else to purchase. Hello, underwear section. Little did I know, I was about to discover the Holy Grail. There they were. Two pair for $12.99, hanging from a dinky disposable hanger. Wonderful Edge underwear by Gilligan & O’Malley.
It seemed too good to be true. Did I find the answer to all of my problems? They looked like normal panties, but along the edge there was a sort of rubbery silicone trim that makes them stick in place. I looked around. Was anyone else seeing this? I felt like I was witnessing a miracle. I headed to the fitting room.
ATTENDANT: You can’t try on underwears.
ME: Oh, do you watch Jersey Shore too?!
ATTENDANT: Nobody watches that anymore.
ME: Oh yeah, me neither.
ATTENDANT: You have to try them on at home and then return them if they don’t fit.
Uhhh, does this seem a little skeevy to anyone else? So basically people are bringing home the underwear, trying them on, and then bringing them back for other people to wear. Blagggh. Ordinarily I’d hear this and get my Hazmat suit, but remember, we’re talking about miracle underwear. I was conflicted but I bought them anyway and tried them on at home. Score! I swear my crack cracked a smile.
The miracle of all miracles happened. My wedgie has been permanently unwedged. Of course if you’re headed to Target to buy some of these miracle panties, good luck. I just bought all of them. Except for the extra smalls. And if you’re buying those I have one word for you. Bitch.