Black Knight #1

literalism at its best

My white cotton underwear really is white cotton underwear.

Beat-up. Has holes in it. Boxer-briefs, like I used to wear in high school. Sitting in my underwear drawer. Sometimes, I'll just leave it on the floor. "Clean this place up," you'll say to me, and I'll try, but sometimes I'll forget. You'll give me a green laundry basket, though, and I'll say thanks and try to use it just about every day.

Sometimes, instead of leaving it on the floor, I'll leave it on my butt, and wear the same underwear too many times in a row. It's not my fault. Falling asleep with you is much better than getting up to take a shower and change my clothes, so I'll do it right up until the very last minute; so my white cotton underwear stays with me.

Other times, I'll moon you when you're trying to do something serious because I can't bear to see you frown, and while you'll appreciate the effort, it'll also bug you that I can be such a child sometimes. As I'm doing it to get a laugh out of you, you'll see my white, old underwear shaking above the waistline of my jean shorts (that you wish I'd give to Goodwill too, honestly) and you will eventually laugh, but it'll be more annoying than anything.

Or your roommate will find my white cotton underwear on her bed after it tumbled there off of yours, because I can never remember to be ashamed that we're sleeping together, and I always forget to hide it. Things will be awkward between you two for days and you'll quietly wish I'd knock that off.

Then there are the times when, inexplicably, you'll open up my sizable videogame drawer and find some white cotton underwear sitting there. You'll ask why it's there and I'll mumble something that isn't clear, and it'll be obvious that I left it there out of absent-minded enthusiasm for the latest Final Fantasy game. It would be cute if it weren't, you know, dirty underwear.

This is what it takes to love me. I know it isn't easy. Because I haven't even begun to describe the other colors of underwear.