For the past few weeks, there have been two pairs of panties lying on the table in the laundry room. I’ll admit that I’ve become obsessed with them. Don’t worry, not in a creepy way. I haven’t touched them or anything. Mostly because I don’t want to be “that guy” and also because I don’t know if they were left there pre-or-post wash.
This obsession stems from a burning curiosity of how the hell does someone forget their panties? The laundry room in our apartment building is locked and only accessible to tenants. So they have to belong to someone who lives in the complex. That person had to have done laundry again since they left their undergarments behind.
I guess I find it odd because I am fanatical about leaving things behind in the laundry room. I check, double-check and triple-check the washer and dryer after I have used them to make sure no clothes have been abandoned. Yes it sounds crazy and I’m mocked for this but there have been a few times I have found an article of clothing lodged somewhere that I would have otherwise missed.
As a matter of fact, I have even caught that one elusive sock that always manages to escape from the dryer. I tripled checked the dryer once and caught the little fucker trying to make a break for it. So how does this person come into the laundry room and never notice their two pairs of panties just lying there on the damn table?
Because of my borderline obsessive personality (okay, I admit my personality has probably already crossed the border), I feel compelled to solve this mystery. But how do I reunite them with their owner? Should I put up flyers around the neighborhood? Do I put their picture on the side of a milk carton? Perhaps I should post something on Craigslist’s Missed Connections:
Us: Two pair of panties. I’m white with black polka dots and my friend is solid black. We are stranded here on the laundry room table.
You: The woman (or man—hey, we’re panties, we don’t judge) who left us on said laundry table and apparently is oblivious to the fact that you have to go commando two days a week.
On second thought, screw it. I’m just going to put them on eBay and say they belonged to Scarlett Johansson. You know there’s some skeevy perv out there who’ll buy them. I don’t want to waste my time solving this mystery. And frankly, I could use the money.