I haven’t purchased used clothing in a while. Maybe my style has somewhat matured since my days of only wearing ripped up blue work pants and light jackets of many colours. I also work at a clothing store where new clothes cost very little for employees. I had a bag of old jeans and tees I once wore often but where none the more, and I took this bag to the Salvation Army. I decided to take a closer look at the products in the old store and saw little of real value. Old work jackets with the names Hank and Gerry on them. Suit coats of heavy and dusty tweed sulking over the black plastic hangers, the same hangers that uphold the overpriced brandname non-musty clothing of my store. I found a pair of jeans that looked worn enough to be cheap but new enough to be worn by me. I tried them on as I do with every $5.99 pair of jeans that I like. They fit well; not too tight, nor too long, nor very expensive. I purchased them from an exuberant cashier and thereafter drove to soccer practice.
I tried the jeans on later that night, to wear them in and get my own personal leg musk woven into their threads. I was sitting on the couch reading when my inner thigh felt a burning. I repositioned my crossed legs off of the ottoman and spread them apart, feet on the ground. The burning persisted. I stripped down and finished the chapter in my bikini briefs. I tried to wear them to work the next day but the burning continued and while standing near the door, a draft caught me off guard when I noticed two large worn spots in the crotch area. I hope the jeans previous owner did not have issues with rashes so strong that they burned out the crotches of pants faster than freshman chlamydia. I have opted to wash these jeans before further use.
Not always, but often, I worry about catching a disease from a toilet seat. When I have a persistent itch, I hope that taking that restroom break at Walkers in Saskatoon didn’t permanently give me an itch. That is worrisome business. I was never worried about getting a worm or parasite as much as I was worried getting VD from the soap dispenser at the public swimming pool, and although acquiring a parasite from drinking straight pond water in a city village in India might be more dangerous than having my junk an inch away from stained mildewed porcelain.
I have also discovered a new body wide itch I get when I am performing some sort of physical activity. After I wash my face and skateboard to work, I get an uncomfortable itch of my face and body, and especially head of hair. It feels like what I’d think an allergy would be like, although I don’t believe allergies exist I think allergies are just an overactive Complaining Gland. The irritation subsides quickly after I stop complaining and think about something else.
The itches have subsided, the burning has stopped. The life of a bachelor.