The king of underwear

I love how people lugging around their baskets overflowing with dirty laundry always manage to drop at least one article of clothing in their path to the third floor laundromat. Earlier today when my neighbor Tim and I were about to head out for some pad thai, we spotted a single tube sock lying in the middle of the hallway leading to the elevators.

"Yoink!" I said, scooping up the sock with one hand while running down the hall. "Mine now!"

"Pete, do you realize that someone's foot's been in there?" Tim pointed out.

I didn't care. I slipped my hand inside the sock and formed a mouth with my thumb and fingers, making a sock puppet. In my best Sesame Street voice, I said, "Ooh! Elmo think this sock smells! Elmo no like foot fungus!"

A second later, we saw a pair of panties on the ground, about five feet ahead of us. I followed the trail of dirty laundry.

"Pete! No!" Tim yelled.

I didn't care. I inspected the panties with my sock-covered hand and said, "It's not soiled, dude, it's okay!"

Giggling uncontrollably like a young boy in dire need of Ritalin, I picked up the panties and wore it on my head like a crown. "LOOK AT ME! LOOK! I'M THE KING OF UNDERWEAR! BOW DOWN TO THE KING OF UNDERWEAR!"

Tim couldn't believe that I was doing this completely stone sober.

I didn't care. I laughed some more, snorted, then looked around and bellowed, "IS THERE NOT A BRA NEARBY TO APPEASE THE KING OF UNDERWEAR, IN THIS LAND OF FORGOTTEN GARMENTS?"

Suddenly the elevator doors opened, and a woman holding an empty laundry basket stepped out. I didn't know her name, but recognized her as the lady living a couple doors down from me.

It was all so very embarrassing, more embarrassing than the time when I was 11 years old and my parents took me and my sister out house-hunting with them and I was getting really sick of playing with all of the bowls of plastic fruit in the model homes all day, so I was happy that we were ending the day by going to an open house where a real family lived, and when we got there, I made my way into one of the bedrooms and nosily opened up an underwear drawer, when suddenly the realtor, my parents, and the teenage girl of whom that bedroom belonged to walked in and red-handedly caught me holding up a big, black and lacy bra, and when everyone covered their mouths in shock, I blushed, turned to my mom and had nothing better to say than, "Mommy, I think we should buy this house." More embarrassing than that.

As I stood in front of the elevator looking incredibly ridiculous with my sock puppet hand and the crown of panties hanging from my head, the woman, the one whose name I don't know but lives a couple doors down from me, she covered her mouth in the same look of shock that that teenage girl had 14 years ago.

Tim, equally sharing my embarrassment, he shook his head and had nothing better to say than, "Care to join us for some pad thai?"