W and I leave for our trek to Provincetown, Mass., early tomorrow morning.
She told me that she would get me to love road trips.
“Probably not,” I replied.
My voice got all high like Anthony Crispino, the secondhand news correspondent played by Bobby Moynihan on Saturday Night Live.
But that’s how I am. A hard sell.
I went out today to buy some new clothes for our trip.
A few pairs of cargo shorts and a some new white socks.
I needed underwear, too. I usually buy Hanes or Fruit of the Loom hi-cuts. Whatever’s on sale. I’m not that picky. I scan the packs for the least girly combination possible. I can usually find a pack of six with only a pair or two covered in flowers or pastel polka dots.
Today, however, I came up empty handed. I couldn’t find an acceptable pack of women’s underwear to save my life. So, I did what any self-respecting butch would do. I went to the men’s department.
I’d already given some thought to switching over from panties to briefs. I picked up a pack of men’s underwear at Target a few months ago. I thought that I’d wait until I lost some weight to wear them though. “I will look totally buff and butch then,” I told myself.
But a lot of stuff happened between now and then. Like nachos. And ice cream. And kids home from school for the summer.
So, I bit the bullet today. I bought matching socks and underwear. I figured P-Town would be a good place to romp around in boy briefs. Besides, if we got mauled by sea creatures on our whale-watching tour, at least I’d be wearing new underwear. My mother would be
so proud mortified.
Oh, and I made one more purchase. A T-shirt to remind myself to relax and enjoy.
And to let W know that I’m trying. That I’ll be leaving here Thursday morning with an open mind and an open heart. That I really am excited to be spending time alone with her, even though my stoic disposition always leaves her guessing.
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Books I’m taking: A Return to Love by Marianne Williamson, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? by Mindy Kaling