No You May Not Borrow My Underwear!

No You May Not Borrow My Underwear!


Do you remember Under Roos? When I was a kid, I loved Under Roos.
Since we were poor, I was never able to get a pair of them. This was but a minor frustration in my material existence. I knew Santa would bring me Under Roos. I just had to wait until Christmas.

It was Wonder Woman all the way for me. She was beautiful, yet strong and tall as shit. Her lasso, made people tell the truth. Basically, she was cool because she was all we girls had! Girls just didn't kick butt enough back then on Saturday mornings. I watched her every weekend. After I watched her on TV, I made the wristlets and tiara out of paper, strung my jump rope through my belt loop and went outside to fight crime. What the tenants in our apartment building must have thought hearing my mother's voice through paper thin walls, "For the love of God stop tying up the neighbor kids!"

I know, I know...Things have become a little clearer to those of you who know my son. Trust me, keep reading and it'll be like having laser surgery.

Well, Christmas came. I tore every package to shreds hoping just one of them would be my Wonder Woman Under Roos. Finally, holding a flat, rectangular package in my hands, I instinctively new this was it. I ripped it open. Yay...Woohooo...wait a minute. This was not Wonder Woman. It was Spider Woman? Why did Santa bring me Spider Woman Under Roos? I was so confused. Who was Spider Woman anyway? Seeing my bewilderment, my parents explained to me that maybe Santa had run out of Wonder Woman Under Roos. They did a bang up job convincing me that Spider Woman was just as cool as Wonder Woman. I didn't make it too difficult for them. I had wanted a pair of Under Roos for so long that I was just happy to have them. Plus, if Santa was watching, I didn't want to blow it for next year. So, I wore them. Still,I felt like I had gotten carrots when I really wanted potato chips. You know what they say about how if you deny your feelings, they can come out in some distorted, acting out kind of way? Well, let's just say the following series of events was quite an eye opener and I'd like to think that I've learned something about myself from this experience or that it has made me stronger in some way.

It was Friday night. We all packed into the '77 Plymouth Gold Duster and made our way to our weekend mecca. We pulled up in front of my Aunt Kathy's house and I saw my cousin, Angie, playing with a new girl. I was mildly concerned that maybe I had been replaced. I shook of the absurd notion and ran to greet them both. Excitedly, Angie told me that this brown skinned girl with authentic Chinese eyes was named Shayla and that she was allowed to go to Shayla's house to play.

Wait just a damn minute? Just who was this Shayla anyway? Why did my cousin want to go to her house? I sized her up good. Shayla's clothes were crisp and the colors were still bright. Her curly, black hair was divided into three parts and braided. At the end of each braid was a colorful hair barrette that was in the shape of a butterfly. Something was amiss. She was too perfect. I was worried. My suspicions were abandoned as Shayla uttered four magical little words, "you can come too." As it turned out, Shayla wasn't the brain sucking, cousin stealing possible alien life form that I thought she was. She was just looking for some new friends.

Her mother greeted us at the door with a full smile and led us into their home. She was a petite, Chinese woman. I had never been in a Chinese persons house before. They had books and family pictures just like we did. Shayla's mother looked remarkably like she did in the family photos that graced their bookshelves. In each photo, she was smiling and either standing or sitting next to a very tall black man, which I guessed was Shayla's father. Apparently, this woman never stops smiling. Which I found odd given the fact that their walls were covered with a series of velvet paintings depicting nude African women with very large afros, breasts and butts riding on exotic animals. I tried not to look, but I couldn't help it. Shayla didn't seem uncomfortable in the least as she led us through Africasia to her room.

Shayla's room was normal. Actually, it was nicer than normal. She had a white dresser and a real white canopy bed with a pink canopy. Oh, how I dreamed of having a canopy bed! I would have hated her except she was so willing to share all of it with us. We were her new best friends.

I was feeling at home and decided to take off my shoes. As I was looking at her toys and fingering through her belongings I suddenly felt a resurgence of suspicion. No ones life could be this perfect. I started opening the drawers of her little white dresser. Shayla didn't mind. She opened a drawer that was full of hair accessories and handed out headbands like it was trick or treat. I put mine on and felt rich. Angie sure knew how to pick friends.

I opened the next drawer and had to step back. I could barely make out the eaglehead peeking out of the neatly folded tank undershirt, but I knew immediately what this was. In Shayla's perfect little room, tucked in her perfect little white dresser among all her perfectly folded underwear were a pair of Wonder Woman Under Roos. I asked her if I could try them on and wasted no time undressing. I tossed my clothes aside and quicker than she could answer, "I guess so," I was the Amazon Princess.

So there I was, dressed in Shayla's underwear. My reflection in the dresser's mirror was a portal directly transporting me into the Hall of Justice. I pulled the headband that Shayla had given me down on my forhead like a tiara and stood with my hands on my hips. I tore around the room and lept upon the bed. Then I stopped suddenly feeling a little naked. Embarrassed was I? Yeah right. I asked Shayla if she had a jump rope to which she replied, "No." Damn, I'd just have to pretend. I jumped off of the bed and tore around the room some more. Just as I took hold of my tiara and tossed it like a boomerang across the room in an attempt to redirect an approaching missile, Shayla's mom walked in the room. Guess what? She wasn't smiling. I was embarrassed.

It was painfully obvious that our time at Shayla's had come to an end. Her mother nicely told us it was time for us to go outside. We did. But not before I found the desperate courage to ask if I could borrow Shayla's underwear? Shayla asked her mother, to which her mother replied, "No" and I was never invited back again.Did I recover? Yes. Did I finally get Wonder Woman underwear? Yes...at Hot Topic. They are the coolest. You can buy some too at http://www.hottopic.com/. In fact these are warmin' my buttocks as I type. So see, it's never too late. But don't go loaning them out though. Portal travel is not for everyone.