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Monday, June 18, 2012

Free Underwear? It's a cinch.

Originally published on June 18, 2012 as part of the Vegas Revenge - Part 2 the Sequel 3: Avenged Trip Report, this post is a Top Ten posts contender.

Mark's Work Wearhouse (now just Mark's) had a promotion running and the preceding post detailed how I jaunted sleezily from store to store, gathering up free underwear that never seemed to be in my size.

I figured that size doesn't matter...

R.F.

The Flusher jewels were snug and dry in my Free Mark's Stay-Dri Underwear, and I was breezing through the airport.

I learned my lesson about Toronto last trip, having had to endure the grey dried hard lump of gut bomb cheese 'burger' meat that constituted my pre-flight meal. I had noticed a Subway just before customs and US security but of course passed it by, expecting better food to await me in the secure area.

This had turned out to be a fallacy.

Maybe these guys are on to something.
So, this time around, as part of the Zipperless Trip, I purchased a 6" turkey sub with cheese, lettuce, tomato, hot peppers, mustard and mayo prior to running the gauntlet. I wanted everything to be somewhat more perfect this time, as close to Zipperless as possible.

As I put my checked bag on the conveyor and approached the line, the security official regarded me and said, "You have delicious Subway... I have to confiscate that..."


I picked up on it pretty quickly and said, "You're hungry, right?"

He smiled and I gestured to one of the lines.

"So I just go here right?"

"No, with Subway you have to join the end of the longest line, way over there."

Who says those "I finished last in cop school so now I am a fake cop at the airport, which is one step above my brother-in-law who finished last in cop school as well as fake airport cop school and is a mall fake cop" guys don't have a sense of humor???

I was feeling pretty chuffed. I made it through the gauntlet, had my Subway, which was oozing mayo onto the single 3" square napkin they grudgingly allot you. (Why is it the napkin supply at the airport is so tight? It's like trying to get toilet paper in cold war Russia.)

I felt confident, well-packed and secure in my Free Mark's Stay-Dri Underwear. I decided to go with the Medium pair I'd picked up last, banking on them not really being significantly different from the XL's I regularly buy.


And actually, all the walking in the airport had led to a slight feeling of chafing - but that was because the Stay-Dri Underwears hadn't been properly seasoned yet, I guessed. Shouldn't be an issue.

I wolfed down the Subway, wiped my chin with the last square inch of non mayo-covered Subway napkin, and did a final pre-boarding gear check. And my noise cancelling earphones weren't working. Dead battery. Spare, also dead. This lead to the purchase of the World's Most Expensive AAA Batteries - $10 for two of 'em.

"TEN DOLLARS????" I said to the checkout guy, with a sneer. "Do you have any idea how non Zipperless that is?"

Before long my flight was called and on the jetway, I noticed a bit of pinching around the size Mediums. They were gripping my waist nicely though, and I figured I'd do a clandestine sack adjustment once I was in my seat. I could use the tray table method of concealment, the magazine method, or maybe even the "Oh, look over there!" cross-hand reach-and-grope distraction method.

I snuggled in to 13F and got the undercarriage cycled and rearranged adequately. Boy those boxer-briefs were feeling pretty snug.

The iPod went on and at risk of crashing the plane in a ball of flaming wreckage, I broke the rules and listened to "Luck Be a Lady" on takeoff. Right on cue, the horns kicked in as the Captain pushed the throttle forward and we roared down the runway.

After an hour or so, I noticed that I couldn't feel my toes anymore. Goddammit that size Medium gotch was tight.

I kept the earbuds in and the music rocking, turned up the volume a bit more, and wriggled around a bit to try to find some relief.

The woman next to me was sound asleep as was her husband on the aisle.

After another hour, I started to curse Mark's Goddamned Work Wearhouse. Why would they give me a size Medium when they were out of XL, and I clearly NEED XL, and gave me Medium when I said it was okay???

At hour 3 I was whimpering. I had to repeatedly snug up my seatbelt because my waist was being reduced by the boa constrictor size Medium straightjacket underwear to the size of a Manila ladyboy prostitute. My legs were completely numb. I couldn't have gotten out of my seat if I'd wanted to.

By hour 4 my waist was completely cinched closed by those fucking free underwear. I cursed the moment that I led myself to believe that Medium is the same as XL. What a fucking moron! My waist was now 3" in diameter and my balls flattened like the pennies we used to put on the railroad tracks as kids, when the 100 car steel trains went through.

Finally, finally, we were on approach to Vegas. My head had ballooned to twice its normal size because my upper body now contained all the blood that normally flows through my once-useful legs. Once again straining to find some sort of relief, I wrenched my ass out of the seat with my arms just as we touched down. I heard a loud bang and felt a pain around my waist like a huge elastic band had just been snapped against me from all directions. Something rocketed through the air, the exact color of the promotional Free Mark's Stay-Dri Underwear, hitting someone in business class in the back of the head.

"Man down in business class, he's out cold," I heard someone say.

I'm not sure what happened but by the time everyone was off the plane, I could move around a little bit.

I hobbled off the plane and my limo was waiting. Luggage arrived on the carousel (very non-Zipperless) and 20 minutes later, I pulled up at the porte cochon at the Four Queens. Mrs. Flusher was there to greet me, and 10 minutes after that, I slipped my first hundred of the trip into one of their gambling machines, ready to take on Vegas and get my Revenge 2.

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    4 comments:

    1. You crack me up. Love the report so far.

      ReplyDelete
    2. That was great - I laughed so hard I cried.

      ReplyDelete
    3. Imma rereadin this agin 2 wks afore I head out to Happy town. I split a side laughin out loud agin. Not for your miscomfort....its just the funny way ya tell it!!

      ReplyDelete
    4. "I figured I'd do a clandestine sack adjustment once I was in my seat. I could use the tray table method of concealment, the magazine method, or maybe even the "Oh, look over there!"method."
      That is exactly how I feel about wearing a thong! ha ha ha ha

      ReplyDelete

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