My underwear So, Monday morning I woke up late and decided to go to my favorite corner coffee shop, just down the street from my place, to enjoy the sun, have a much-needed cup of brew, and do a little work on my laptop.

I didn't bother with a shower (I work at home these days—and, OK, yes, I'll admit it, my personal grooming habits have fallen by the wayside). I just put on the clothes I'd had on a couple of days before, the jeans and shirt sitting on the top of my laundry basket. Why the hell not? Who's gonna see me?

Well, as it turns out, everyone I've ever met. Seriously, I think ran into everybody but my third-grade music teacher in that goddamn coffee shop—it was like a bad dream. But that's not the worst part, kids. Because, when I got home two hours later I stepped into my bathroom and quite by chance discovered that somehow, through the cruel forces of extraordinarily bad luck, I HAD A PAIR OF DIRTY UNDERWEAR HANGING OUT OF THE BACK OF MY PANTS.

Ohhhhhhhh, the humanity!!!!!

They were wedged between my belt and my waist, wrong side out, tag displayed. Everyone now knows my underpants come from JC Penny. I am so humiliated, I think I might have to move.  ¶ 6:46 PM