So I had these various pairs of
underwear, gifts from my mother many years ago, unopened and forgotten until it came time to gather my belongings over the
Christmas holiday to ship to Nieuw York.
I opened one pack this morning, a pair of Jockey briefs, probably about ten years old, and purple. I had visions of a Jockey magazine ad featuring Prince wearing the briefs (and nothing else), but I'm pretty sure that never actually happened.
Visiting The Missus this evening, I surprised her by parading, brief-ly, in my Princely undergarment; as I made one last mock-Chippendale wiggle of my butt, she noticed a piece of paper stuck there.
"You've got a price tag on your butt."
"Cool! Just like Cousin Minnie Pearl!"
She peeled off the presumed price tag to study it further. It actually wasn't a price tag -- just some sort of numerical code on the top, and underneath, the words INSPECTED BY CYNTHIA.
"Who's this Cynthia?", she asked.
I took the fifth.