Like most men, I need new underwear but keep on wearing the old. Once you get used to a pair, it's tough to say goodbye, and if you're going to say,"Oh look! You have a couple of holes in you!" and then toss away an otherwise perfectly fine pair, well, what does that say about your loyalty?
So the answer there is, of course I do, and I'd be willing to see about investing in some new ones if they are of an interesting plaid pattern, or show Stewie Griffin doing something outrageous. But the amusing thing is that Peggy, always the discreet one between us, whispered this to me, lest the teenager at the register hear talk of What's Underneath It All.
I have never had problems buying anything for anyone in any kind of store, and of course, that usually means asking someone a question. I can tell you how they figure a baseball player's slugging percentage, I can tell you three different ways to get anywhere around here (scenic route, quickest route, or shortest), and I can bake an apple pie from scratch, but, for all my many failings, I cannot tell you what "wings" are - as in, the kind of wings on certain products only used by the female gender and sold in that one aisle at the Try 'N' Buy down which most males will not venture. All I need is to have it written down - blue box, pink writing, "wings," and then I show it to a woman, asking, "Is this the right thing?" Simple.
How do I know the woman knows what I'm trying to buy? Simple again. Women know everything they need to know!