Wednesday, April 13, 2005

What not to wear

Okay, so it was early summer in New York - pleasantly warm at night. I was still living on the Upper West Side, and was into a good solid gym routine. I belonged to New York Sports Club at the time, which was only four blocks away. I liked to go once the after-work crowd had diminished, so I ambled on down to the gym around 8:30 or so.

I was doing a lot of cardio, so I hopped on the elliptical trainer and started churning away. The 45 minutes seemed to really fly. I noticed I was getting some looks - niiiice. I usually don't care about this kind of thing at the gym; I don't wear my glasses, so everyone is in a fog anyway. And I really hate gyms that get all cruisy - yeeccch. But still, it's nice to have a glance thrown your way every now and again. I had been really consistent with my gym going, so it was clearly paying off.

After the cardio, I hopped off and went over to the mats - thought I'd do my crunches before I went up one floor to where the freeweights are. I laid down on my back, and went to adjust my gym shorts a bit.

Except, I discovered I wasn't wearing gym shorts.

Oh. My. God.

I was only wearing my boxer briefs.

I had just been on the elliptical trainer for almost an hour, slogging away, IN MY UNDERWEAR.

It was every high school panic dream I'd ever had, except it was really happening. I had strolled down West End Avenue, happy as a clam. That is, happy as a clam who is only in his underwear. Carefree. Smiling at passersby. Clad in a tank top, and boxerbriefs.

Somehow, I had forgotten the last step of getting dressed: PUT YOUR PANTS ON. No, I had blithely sauntered out into the warm summer night without a care in the world.

In my underpants.

Thank god the boxerbriefs were dark blue. Anyone at the gym who didn't have their glasses on might have thought they were bicycle shorts. Except, no, they were definitely boxerbriefs.

Dear God, no wonder I was getting looks.

I immediately got the hell out of there and headed for home. My mind raced during my four-block trek back down the avenue to my apartment.

"iminmyunderweariminmyunderweariminmyunderwear."

See, dreams can come true.

7 Comments:

Blogger Gil said...

I was going to say, "This is why I love you," except I am actually very disappointed in you. I can't BELIEVE you didn't finish your crunches, quitter. :)

4:01 AM  
Blogger Broadsheet said...

OMG funniest post - EVER. Bless you for even admitting this, but it was pretty damn funny. at least they didn't have little hearts or something all over them, and at least they weren't white.

5:53 AM  
Blogger Jen said...

Are you sure you're not Kramer? No, he'd wear boxer shorts, not briefs. I always worry I'm going to somehow answer the door shirtless. (I sometimes walk around shirtless right before we go to bed.) Thankfully, no one's come knocking at 10:30 (don't get any ideas!)

6:22 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I hate boxers unless I using them to sleep in. I willy worms its way out and starts greeting everyone. Just be thankful your privates don't have a mind of their own and spent and hour bobbing around saluting the guys at the gym. Now wait...is that bad? Hell I can never tell
k

7:24 AM  
Blogger crumblord said...

Knottyboy: I have the same problem with boxer shorts. Boxerbriefs give more support; with regular briefs sometimes things can go falling out the leg hole. Probably TMI.

Linda: Yes, mercifully they were plain colored FTL. I do have Boris and Natasha boxers, but those are just for sleepovers.

Jen: I often need to borrow a cup of sugar around 10, 10:30. You have been warned.

4:03 PM  
Blogger Zenchick said...

ROFLMAO!
I really feel like I should pay you for that post. I haven't laughed like that in some time.

9:34 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

*wiping away the tears*

That was the funniest. post. EVAH!!!

In the history of mankind.

EVAH.

10:24 AM  

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