Welcome to Britt5091: Origins, where I dig up old blog posts I used to write for IGN’s community under the username Britt5091. Some posts may make you giggle, some may make your eyes bleed, and some may make you stroke your beard in a pensive manner. All you need to know is that these posts, no matter how terrible some of them may be, ultimately lead to everything I do now.
Go ahead, laugh.
September 18, 2009
I don’t know what it is, but for whatever reason, since I began blogging on IGN the weirdest shit has been happening to me. Between driving through animal carcasses, pissing people off at GameStop and intriguing zoo visits, I thought I was done with all the abnormalities.
Until last night, when Mr. Abnormality himself bitch slapped me across the face.
Yesterday was a typical Thursday. I was shuffling out to the parking lot after a grueling 11 hour day at work. Thankfully, the sun was out and it was surprisingly warm for a mid September evening.
As I approached my car, I noticed a white clothing item crumpled in the empty stall next to where I was parked. It was ladies underwear. Okay at this point there are probably 20 people around me, all barely considered acquaintances, and they begin to laugh upon noticing the underwear. I begin to laugh as well, however my laugh trails off as I realize…
Those are mine.
A million questions began racing through my head at once. How the hell did they get there? Why are they in the parking lot? Do I pick them up? Should I leave them? Those cost me a lot of money! I can’t just LEAVE them! But people are around! ZOMMMG.
Now I could have been smooth, bent down, swooped them up and said something witty, but no. Instead I stiffly walked past them, crawled in my car and waited for the others to disperse before I would make my move.
Glancing in my rearview mirror, I could see them. My poor underthing had been driven over and was covered in tire tracks. But dammit I had forked over money for those and there’s nothing a good washing couldn’t fix…right?
I must have looked like a fool waiting (and pouting) in my car for 15 minutes. I felt like one too. I was just about ready to zoom off and say screw it when finally, it looked like I was in the all clear. I opened my door and prepared to pounce.
My efforts were cut short when several men emptied out of a van across from me. I stopped, frozen, and one by one, they all turned and glanced over my way. I knew I was busted, but I was already halfway bent over to pick my underwear up anyway, so I reached down, picked them up and began to make a B line back to my car.
Then it happened.
Gritting my teeth, underwear in hand, I turned around.
Oh of course. Of course the new guy is returning from his New Employee Orientation. Of course he and, oh look, all of his hot coworkers show up right when I’m leaving. Of course I have a pair of freakin’ white track-covered underwear in my hand.
Trying to explain to 5 guys why you are taking home a pair of underwear you found in the parking lot isn’t an easy task. The awkwardness, blushing, and mumbling that ensued is unexplainable. You guys just can’t let a girl off easy, can you?
The only explanation: After I did a load of laundry, they fell out of the basket while in my car. They must have been caught on my purse, lunch, something, and fell off on my way into work.
Can’t wait for work on Monday.
Why? Because yours truly has been appointed to train the new guy.
I’m now going to call Super Mario RPG and see if it’s available to play with for a while. Thank God for that little black book. And thank God for a system that still works after almost 20 years.
Join the militia. I promise you won’t get my luck.
June 1st, 2012
Oh dear. Oh dear. OH DEAR holy CRAP I can still feel the embarrassment. Thankfully homeboy didn’t work with me for much longer, but uh, yeah. That’s a story for the grandchildren.