FRILLY PANTIES AND A GIANT SPLIFF

Some things have the capacity to give great pleasure. And as you get older, you become more particular in your tastes. I know this from experience, having recently regretted divesting myself of certain very pleasing things many years ago.

I realized this quite by chance. A few days ago I was shopping at Cala Market late at night (they're open 24-7), when I chanced upon an acquaintance in the spice section. He was holding a jar of peppercorns and muttering, in the style of Homer Simpson, "black pepper, mmmmmmmmm, black pepper...". After putting the jar back, he blinked, then slowly reached out a hand, seized the same jar, read the label, then repeated "black pepper, mmmmmmmmm, black pepper...".


"Black pepper, mmmmmmmmm, black pepper..."

He did this several more times over the next ten minutes. Having nothing better to do, I watched him the whole time during this stellar performance. Yes, black pepper is marvelous. But I cannot imagine it exerting such attraction.

Lest you consider my acquaintance feeble-minded, I hasten to assure you that he is not so at all. He is, in many ways, an utter genius, but that night he was stoned out of his mind. I deduced this from the fact that he had two shopping carts filled with the most amazing array of edibles, the things that only someone with a bad case of the munchies would buy.

Liverwurst, chocolate cake, barbecue chips, pickled habaneros, sardines, licorice ropes, york peppermint patties, cheese-doodles, twenty four pack of veggie burgers, ice-cream (clearly melting), a variety of carbonated beverages (many in several different sizes), zucchini, brie, edam, gouda, mixed nuts, lamb chops ........

Must've been one hell of a spliff.

When he finally saw me, he said "oh hey (long pause) you're here too?"
I affirmed that I was indeed there. He though about it for a while (his ice cream was leaking on the floor while he thought, but I didn't wish to distress him by mentioning it), then he said "hey, ah, you're ..... (long pause) here?"

This was not the most stimulating conversation we've ever had. The last time I had seen him was four months previously when he returned from the Philippines. He had with great good humour described some of the strange souvenirs he had bought while over there.


Which made me remember cotton panties.

When I went to the Philippines the first time, back in 1983, I purchased several hundred frilly cotton panties. In many lovely hues or print-patterns.


No, I am not a pervert.


I had no intention of wearing them myself!


But they would've looked stunning, I assure you.


It was the cotton. Philippine cotton is of a type that you cannot find in the US. Smooth, breathable, and with a sheen to it. Marvelous fabric. And it lasts for years.

When you mention to someone that you are going to the Philippines for the first time, they will usually tell you to pack really light, because you will buy clothing while there. Suits, slacks, shirts, sports coats - all can be made by Philippino tailors. Such as King Philip Tailors, located in the Quad in Makati. Even pajamas. Everything for only a fraction of what it would cost off the rack in San Francisco. And better made to boot.


Even undergarments should be bought while over there.

So naturally I went to Tesoro's. And bought everything in sight. Such lovely souvenirs!

What was I thinking?

It is not a good idea to give one's female friends frilly panties for their birthday, unless one really does know them that well.
I did not realize this at first, but soon understood it perfectly.


So, for years, my male friends would get frilly panties for their birthdays instead.

If any of them asked why, I'd tell them I was stoned while shopping for their present - It must have been one hell of a spliff.

I now realize I should've kept some of those panties, just for old time's sake. Such nice cotton, such lovely hues - and a sheer delight to touch.
Did the recipients of those gifts ever appreciate them quite as well?
Or ever even wear them?

I should ask. I miss those panties.



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