It has been quite a few years since I had to do laundry in an apartment complex’s community laundry room or a laundromat and for that, I will be eternally grateful. I was just reading Malnutured Snay’s Laundry Room Rules for Bachelors and upon reading rule number 14, suddenly remembered something that happened to me in three different places that I hadn’t thought about for a long time. Someone stole my panties… three different times!
I have never worn granny-panties and in fact don’t even own a pair. I also do not wear thongs. I know that people say thongs have the advantage of no visible panty line. To this I respond, “I spent my whole life looking for a pair of panties that DO NOT go up my butt… I refuse to buy a pair that does so on purpose!” I currently wear, and have worn for many years, (not the same pair of course!) cute little satin bikinis in a variety of colors and patterns. They don’t go up my butt and the satin feels nice sliding around in my jeans. Overall, I find that this style of panty is skimpy enough to be sexy while not sacrificing my ass to a permanent wedgy… (And by the way, they don’t bunch up and stick out of my hip-hugging jeans either.)
Anyway, when I studied in Paris there just happened to be a laundromat across from my building and it was there that I did laundry. Normally, I stayed there while I was washing my clothes, but one time I went back to my room for some reason and didn’t come back until a couple of hours later when my laundry was finished.
I’m not sure if I am normal, but I know what each and every pair of my panties and socks looks like and if I have washed them in a current load or not. On this particular occasion, I happened to notice that two pairs of my favorite panties were missing when I retrieved my laundry from the machine. I thought perhaps I had made a mistake and didn’t actually wash them, but upon double checking the laundromat and then examining my room, it was confirmed: those two pair had disappeared. I was extremely upset because while I was in Paris I didn’t have my usual unlimited supply of clothes, nor did I really have the funds to replace those panties. I wrote a lengthy letter to my mom in my misery and wouldn’t you know it, a few weeks later she sent me a care package containing three new pairs of panties! (Boy, do I have the best Mom in the world or what?) In the end, I just chalked the experience up to living in a large city and vowed never to leave my laundry unattended again.
Fast forward three and a half years later and thousands of miles west: I was living in a pretty nice apartment complex in Texas. We had a pool, a gym, a laundry room, and tennis courts on the premises. I did my laundry in the laundry room and frequently left it unattended while I swam or worked out, but had the machines timed so that I was quite punctual at retrieving my laundry when it was finished.
Because I didn’t do laundry very often, one day I just so happened to be doing a load that contained, I shit you not, all but three pairs of my panties. (This is quite a statement considering I had enough underwear so that I only had to do laundry about once a month.) When the washer finished, I went to the laundry room and tossed my clothes into the dryer. I jumped back into the pool (which incidentally was no more than 50 feet from the laundry room) and an hour or so later I retrieved them and went home.
While folding my clothes, I thought something appeared to be amiss. I had all the clothes laid out on the bed, when I realized I had only two pairs of panties there… and they were the “special” ones for that time. I thought I was going crazy. I looked all over my apartment and searched the laundry room: sure enough, I only had five pairs of panties to my name! My roommate laughed when I told her this, but it was true: I had not seen anyone in the vicinity of the laundry room, but someone had obviously stolen my underwear. Now, I knew it wouldn’t have been a female… girls would never wear someone else’s underwear… but who then? Would a regular guy steal ALL my underwear? Perhaps it was a transvestite who couldn’t afford to buy himself new underwear… I guess I will never know. Once again, I swore never to leave my laundry unattended.
A year and a half later, the same roommate and I had moved across town to a cheaper apartment complex closer to campus. This time the laundry room was directly across from my apartment. Even so, when I did my laundry I never left it unattended… except for one time when I had to run back to my apartment because I had run out of quarters. I was absent for no more than 5 minutes, but later when I folded my laundry I noticed that 3 more pairs of my panties had disappeared! I couldn’t believe my luck! Were my panties just that cute or did I have some unknown stalker who not only followed me across the Atlantic, but got his jollies by stealing my panties?
To this day, I never figured out who stole my panties or why, but believe you me, I was never so happy in all my life as when I finally got my own washer and dryer that I could hook up in my own house!