I Can’t Find Any Boxers, so I’ll Just Keep Wearing the Dirty Ones

And other tales from a Saturday morning on Fordham Road

by Jack Archambault

Editor in Chief

This morning, I finally reached the point in the year where I would rather buy new boxers than go to the laundromat and wash the ones I have. See, the problem was not that I was too lazy to go do my laundry, it was just that I had a lot of dirty boxers but not a lot of other dirty clothes. Since I was not about to walk to the laundromat, spend $4, and wait 45 minutes just to get eight pairs of underwear clean and not much else, I decided to go buy some more.

So, I went to the most logical starting place for any trip to buy more underwear: TJ Maxx. After making fleeting eye contact with the security guard at the top of the escalator and offering him the extremely awkward “white person grimace”, I went to the men’s underwear section in the back of the store.

Well, I found the underwear. I just didn’t find the boxers. I found 600 pairs of boxer briefs in varying styles, colors, fabrics, and thicknesses. I found boxer briefs with moisture-wicking fabric for when your balls get too sweaty. I found boxer briefs labeled “upper thigh”, “mid-thigh”, “lower thigh”, and even “knee” (at which point you should probably just start calling them shorts). I found boxer briefs with “JETER” written across the butt and the number 2 underneath. Yes, I was still in the men’s section, and Yankees fans have some serious issues. I probably could have found boxer briefs that claimed to cure testicular cancer. Shit, I even found tighty whities.

Nevertheless, I continued my search. Then, just as I was about to give up and go home to put on my least dirty pair, I found them. Crammed into the leftmost crevice of the bottom shelf were five 3-packs of Calvin Klein boxers for $19.99 each. Being the cheapskate I am when it comes to buying things I actually need, I thought that was a bit exorbitant and decided I would rather just do my laundry than spend $20 on boxers. Instead, I found a 3-pack of socks for a more reasonable $6. I went to check out, but upon seeing the line that stretched all the way to Poughkeepsie, I decided I didn’t want those either.

Clearly, you need to be Sherlock Holmes to find a pair of boxers at TJ Maxx, and even if you are, you quickly realize you also need to be Jeff Bezos to pay for them.

On my way to Macy’s to try again, I decided to make a quick stop at Starbucks. I have a sort of twisted enjoyment of Starbucks, if only because they have made getting a cup of coffee way harder than it ever needed to be. Today I was not disappointed.

While I was waiting in line I glanced up at the spot where, at every other coffee shop in the world, the menu is. But why should Starbucks, the company that decided it was too good for standard drink size names, bother with a piddling menu? Instead, I looked up to see several large pictures of limited-edition lattes and a sign that read, “For the complete menu, download the Starbucks app.” Making a mental note to remember to set this place on fire the next time I got the chance, I decided I’d get one of the five items actually shown on the menu: a white chocolate mocha. Iced, if only because the one in the picture was hot and I wanted to feel like I still had some say in the matter.

At this point I realized that even though there was only one person ahead of me when I got in line, I had been standing there for a good five minutes. “Your total is $41.22,” the cashier said to the woman in front of me, at which point I should have turned around and run far away. Clearly, Bezos had decided he had enough boxers and came to Starbucks to buy eight caramel raspberry mochaccinos.

Since I ended up waiting a good 10 minutes for Ms. Bezos to get all eight of her mochaccinos, I had a good opportunity to eavesdrop on the conversation taking place to my right between two Fordham basketball assistant coaches. The topic was today’s game against St. Bonaventure:

“…but if we can limit their offensive rebounds and close out on the three-point line, we should be good.”

Yeah, I think, if St. Bonaventure only plays three guys and Antwon Portley gets possessed by LeBron James, then we might only lose by 15.

As I was overcome with amazement at the irrational confidence of these people, my drink was ready. To finish that point though, basketball players and coaches tend to be the most outrageously cocky people on the face of the earth. If they were parents, they could lose their kids at the park on Monday, forget to pick them up from school on Tuesday and Wednesday, feed them rat poison on Thursday and then forget to pick them up from the hospital on Friday, and still think they had a pretty good week.

But back to the boxers. I fared no better at Macy’s, coming across nothing but two stray pairs that had been taken out of the packaging and thrown on the ground. Dejected, I took a long sip of my iced white chocolate mocha and headed home.

So, what is it? Why don’t they sell boxers on Fordham Road, and why isn’t anyone upset about it? Every time I see a lady selling baby turtles from a plastic box by the D station, I have to think about how much more money she might make selling Hanes comfort flex boxers.

Curious, I did some internet sleuthing and found out that there is a growing conspiracy against boxers that extends far beyond the Bronx, one that is adequately summed up in a GQ article titled “Stop Wearing Boxer Shorts”. The author, an idiot by the name of Jake Woolf, calls boxers “the most impractical, childish, least sophisticated, and worst-fitting” underwear option. Shut up. Woolf goes on to criticize boxers for being uncomfortable and unstylish, outing himself as a moron in the process. As for comfort, boxers provide breathability and a wider range of motion. Boxer briefs feel like boa constrictors wrapped around your thighs. And stylish? Unless Woolf goes out in public with nothing but underwear on (which I wouldn’t put past someone who posts pictures like this) part of the point of underwear is that people don’t see it. It goes under your clothes. Duh.

Unfortunately, I fear TJ Maxx and Macy’s might be reading too many of Woolf’s articles. All I ask is this: have easy to find, affordable boxers available at your store.

After all, if someone can buy a skin-tight Derek Jeter jersey for their butt, they should be able to buy a loose-fitting Derek Jeter jersey for their butt as well.

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