Thursday, March 16, 2017

DRAWERS



                         Alvin Toffler’s 1970 book Future Shock spoke of     
                           “too much change in too short a period of time"
                             and coined the term “information overload.”


            “I need new underwear,” he said. He was rebinding an old philosophy book, but he put down his tools and pulled at the waist of his trousers.
            “What’s wrong with your old underwear?” she asked.
            “It’s too tight around the middle,” he said. “I need a bigger size.”
            “I’ll order you some from Amazon,” she said. “Large instead of medium.” She was not very skilled with modern technology, but she did know how to send e-mail and ask Google questions and order things from Amazon.
            Amazon, it turned out, had thousands of types of men’s underwear. She looked at page after page, trying to find something like what he usually wore. He didn’t want boxer shorts or white Y-fronts, so that left something called briefs. Some of the offerings were suggestive and others were downright naughty. She was fascinated (and a little scandalized) by the offerings. Finally she found something that seemed like what he was used to wearing and ordered four pairs in Large.
            When the package arrived, two days, Amazon Prime, he opened them, liked the colors, and held up one pair to his waist. Then he looked at it more carefully.
            “It doesn’t have a, well, you know.” The briefs were designed with a decisive curve in the front seam, but no front opening.
            “Well, how are you supposed to go to the bathroom?” she asked.
            “It looks like they’re more interested in showing off the little man than accommodating him,” he said. “Could you maybe sew an opening or something?”
            She raised her eyebrows. “That would be pretty complicated. I mean, you can’t just cut a hole in them. You have to have more fabric and stuff.” After a moment, she asked again “What do you suppose people do? Is this some new thing?”
            She went to her computer to Google it.
            How do men use the bathroom when their drawers don’t have a fly? She typed, not really expecting an answer. But there were lots of answers. She read posts on one thread, explaining various techniques for men urinating while wearing briefs with no front opening. Undo belt or don’t undo belt. Right hand hooks around the elastic while the left takes aim. Sit down. There were many arguments for and against various types of men’s underwear and many helpful technical hints, one even using the word micturition. She was torn between surprise and hilarity.
            “I can’t believe what I’m reading,” she said.
            “Maybe they don’t make the regular kind any more,” he said, sadly, in a voice that had lamented the gradual demise of many different regular kinds of things: Woolen dressing gowns, trans-Atlantic ocean liners, dial telephones.
            She repacked the underwear and took it to UPS. He went to a nearby Ross store and found some drawers that had the proper front opening. They were enormous, however, so he used his bookbinding cord and needles to take some tucks in the waistband.
            “Well, you are nothing if not resourceful,” she said. “You might have used staples.”
            “Staples would rust,” he said.