She saw me there, and the laughter she was sharing with Fred stopped immediately died. She came over to me and sat down, a concerned look in her face....“Pete, what’s wrong? Is everything OK?”I just pointed to the two rings, still sitting on the table next to the otherwise empty envelope.“Shit. Fred, you’re doing this without us tonight. Come along, we’re going somewhere else, Pete.” She put the rings into the envelope, and putting them in my backpack led me numbly outside and to her car.. Like I was one of those boy-band sluts who modeled the damn things in magazine ads."When I was a boy, underpants were white. And then they started adding colors, which was cool. I need some new ones, so I go to the store and grab a pack--I wasn't aware they were making them in different styles now, with different cuts." I'm teasing, Aaron. I bought some once which turned out to be thongs. Why would I want a string up the crack of my ass? Us girls spend half our lives pulling our panties out of. More

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