Wherein I become a Jockey poster boi.

The waiting has ended.

My boxer briefs have finally arrived, properly sized, and one pair is currently on my person.

I enjoy them immensely. The crotchal area is an amusement to me, though, since I can’t fill it out properly and have no desire to do so. It’s interesting to have a piece of clothing that otherwise fits delightfully but has a single area of… shall we say… sag.

Howdy, ma’am.

Apparently I’m actually a large man.

This realization comes to me thanks to my recently purchased three pack of Jockey classic boxer briefs, which, alas, are too small for me. I was ordering under the illusion that I was, in fact, a medium sized man, but I was sadly mistaken. There’s a form for returning my goods, but I wonder–can one truly return underwear? I wouldn’t want to receive returned underwear, that’s for sure. But clearly I need to buy a larger pair. For the moment, I’m sitting in my pitiful women’s Jockey underwear, lamenting my sorry state.

Curiously, my order came with a catalogue for–wait for it–bras. This struck me as an odd combination. Did they look at my name rather than my order and assume I needed to know how science could fit my shape? Did they assume I was buying for a male (in)significant other? Or, as one Girlspotter suggested, did they just figure my husband was using my credit card? Curiouser and curiouser.