Back in the heady 1990s, before I was brought down by a wholly fictional (and physiologically improbable) sex scandal, I was president of my college's Young Democrats chapter. Mostly this involved rounding up sprightly young kids to hold banners at rallies, "liaising" with other student groups, and copious amounts of plastic-jugged liquor with unsettling names like, "Broke College Kid Semi-Vodka - Drink/Enjoy/Die."
It's my senior year, and my club is hosting the statewide convention. Dorky Demo-bots roll in from all 100 counties (ok, maybe not that many - but the more witnesses there are, the better the story). We book meeting space, we arrange for statewide elections, we're good to go.
Until my friend, Dana, who was running for statewide president, falls ill and lands in the hospital. She asks me to read her speech for her. I agree.
I'm wearing my finest pastel suit (this is the South, after all). I'm sitting on the stage at the front of the auditorium, reading her speech. And I'm killing. Every Demo-Dork, from every corner of the state, is hanging on my every word. Mouths are open, and expressions are thoughtful.
Dana wins in a landslide.
At the after-party, I ask how my speech went. As it turns out, it wasn't the speech, nor the way I delivered it. Nope. I had somehow provided the entire auditorium with a direct sight line to my underpants. In fact, nobody I spoke to could remember a word I'd said.
Moreover, as it was laundry day, I was wearing cotton Goofy Disney underpants from Wal-Mart.
So, that's how I bought an election with my underpants. And, Dana, that statewide presidency bloody well better STILL be on your resume. You owe me, dude.
UPDATE - So, I just realized something. I wrote a post about flashing a roomful of people on my dad's 73rd birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD!!!! Staying classy up here in DC, don't you worry.
24 comments:
Ah, college underpants stories. I went to an engineering school where there were about 6 guys to every girl on campus. The million and a half fraternities on campus sent their pledges out on panty raids so often I finally broke down, went to Wal-Mart to stock up and just started opening the door and flinging a few pairs out every time someone knocked. It was very embarrassing to show up at a Christmas formal and find a Christmas tree decorated with panties - easch with a tag indentifying whom they had come from. I don't even want to tell you what percentage were "mine".
ah funny - so you were in the Young Dems - I was President of the College Republicans and the Young Republicans - don't kill me, they wanted me to resign when they found out I wanted to be an ATF agent.
by the way - I posted 4 bags to replace vera - go vote!
Tina, man, and I thought the guys I went to school with were pretty tacky. A panty tree?
Zip - that's way better than the reason I had to resign. Also, yeah, everybody - if you were making fun of Vera Bradleys a few weeks back, you have to go vote for a new bag for Zipcode!
Hilarious “goof” up... And it gives political transparency a new meaning.
Aw, Foxy, there's nothing I love more than a good pun. Except for maybe a bad pun...and that was AWESOME.
So I guess I'm not clear on what laundry day has to do with wearing Goofy underwear. Perhaps you had just FINISHED with the laundry so your Goofy underwear was clean and wearable? I can't imagine that you wouldn't put that on at every opportunity.
Unless Pinocchio was somehow more attractive to you....
Gilahi - what did Pinocchio's girlfriend say?
Tell me a lie! Now tell me the truth! Now tell me a lie!
bahaha that's funny Shannon -
See? They're right - politics IS about the subtle, low-level communication! Communication that says "I'm easy" will always win men's votes. ;-)
(j/k...I'd never say that someone was easy online and mean it)
Zip - yeah, I'm funny in a classy, elegant, Rat Pack sort of way. Right?
Brandon - thing was, it was a majority female audience. I think the Disney panties just sort of mesmerized everyone into submission.
of course!
But the underpants incident was during your exhibitionist period anyway...
Zip - indeedy!
Michael - no, it was around the same time I invented Cubism. Which I then exhibited. To a largely indifferent audience.
I want to know why you had goofy underwear to begin with, dear.
My mom bought it for me. No lie.
A college Democrat? In the SOUTH? Oh, baby, you do love pain and humiliation, which sort of explains your sartorial faux pas. But not the Wal Mart thing. That's just gross! :)
Michael, again, my mommy purchased my lingerie. And, in all fairness, I went to school in Chapel Hill.
Ah, well, I shall not rage against moms. My own was quite flawed but always my ideal for womanhood. And she worked tirelessly for her children. As for Chapel Hill, it is sort of Ann Arbor-y. The important thing is, you were a Democrat. You remain with the clan, I dare to hope? Once you're in this thing of ours you can never leave. :)
Love,
M
I remain with the clan, though no longer in a professional capacity.
In Chapel Hill, being a Democrat made you a freakin' right-winger.
Mr. West - remember that time I was antifeminist fascist sellout for not protesting Playboy? Didn't that RULE?
I remember. I was one too! You should tell that story. :-)
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