Who Stole My Underwear!?

Photo by Fruit of the Loom

For those who don’t know, I am originally from New York State. The school I attended was in a rural area. The elementary, junior high, and high school were all in one place under the same roof.

In the third grade, during Physical Education (PE) class, we were told we would go to the swimming pool to learn how to swim. Most of us had never seen a swimming pool. Pools were not a regular item at houses in our area.

We would go to swimming lessons once a week for two weeks. I was 8 years old. Our regular PE class was held in a room on the elementary side of the school. The pool was located in the middle of the building.

When it was time to go to the swimming pool, the teacher escorted us through the building, up some stairs and down the hall into the locker room. They issued us swimsuits. The boys went to the boy’s locker room and the girls to the girl’s locker room. Our locker room had lockers, benches to sit on, a couple of toilets, and the showers. As you walked by the shower area, there was the door to go out to the pool.

We were given bags to put our clothes in. We undressed and put on our suits. I dropped my clothes into the bag and placed it near the bench. Then I went out the door. We gathered around in a group and waited for our instructions.

It was a large pool. I believe they had meets there for the high school teams. As you came out the door, you were near the shallow end of the pool.

We were told to enter the pool near the stairs. I think there were stairs attached to the inside of the pool. We grabbed onto the silver railings and lowered ourselves into the water. I was scared. Having never seen a pool, I didn’t feel very confident. I grabbed the side of the pool where there were areas to grip. The teacher taught us the fundamentals. It didn’t go very well because I didn’t want to let go. She was helping all of the students. I think some kids eventually made their way down to the deep end; probably showing off.

So the class ended and we hit the showers on the way back in. As soon as we dried off, we went to the benches and our bags. I looked down into my bag and my underwear was gone. I searched through the whole bag to see if I had misplaced it under my other clothing. Nope. It was gone. I didn’t know what to do next. Should I tell the teacher? But what were they going to do? I ended up putting my long pants on with no underwear. I had to go the whole day like that. Trust me it didn’t feel very good.

Fast forward to the next week. We went out to the pool. This time, the teacher said I should use one of those hard foam kick boards. They were rounded on the top, sort of like a surfboard, but not with such a sharp point. I grabbed it just above the bottom and was able to propel myself through the water, kicking as I went. I was still too afraid to let go and do it without the board. It took everything in my power just to do that.

So we came back to the locker room, showered, and headed to our bags. I looked into the bag and my underwear was gone again! Except this time, I wasn’t upset. Because, unbeknownst to the thief, I had packed an additional pair of underwear. I had hidden it below the rest of my clothing. So he thought he had screwed me over again, but alas, I had done it to him. He just didn’t know it.

Conclusion

Although not so funny then, I can laugh about it now. When I was thinking about funny stories to post, I started laughing out loud about this story. I hope you got a kick out of it too.

For the record, once we moved to Florida, the first apartment we lived at had a pool. One day, I went out to the swimming pool and I started swimming. I couldn’t believe it. I taught myself at age 11. It wouldn’t be the last time I taught myself how to do something.

Until next time, happy reading.

-Matt