I’ve noticed that participating in sports with people breaks down some barriers on topics that are typically socially frowned upon. Perhaps the domain of adolescent boys but wedgies come up quite a bit. Finding underwear that is suitable for running or the dynamic movements of soccer that does not ride up your bum is a rarity. I’ve often commiserated with teammates about the wrong underwear choice creating an atomic wedgeie. Full bottom panties do not make for a comfortable thong. For that matter, wearing a thong doesn’t help either. Oftentimes the best solution is to wear no underwear at all.
One of the monologues from Eve Ensler’s “The Vagina Monologues” is simply entitled Hair. I’ve never been one to go for a Brazilian; I micromanage my body hair but not that extent. I’m not a prepubescent girl – I have hair. Well, I had hair. My waxer and I had a misunderstanding because I was a little too unassertive in reminding her what I usually do. One moment we were making small chat and the next there was wax where never there was wax before. It reminded me of a old punch line to an adolescent joke: there’s no hair there.
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