Going Commando

Image result for inseam measurement

I admit that I’m cheating. Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday challenge is to write a post about the title of a book you’re currently reading or one that is closest to you as you write this post.

Sorry Linda, but I’m not doing that today. Not exactly, anyway.

Yesterday’s WordPress one-word prompt was the word “tailor.” I wrote a post that referenced spy novels, including one by John le Carré, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. I am neither currently reading that book nor is it close to me at the moment.

But after I’d published my post for the “tailor” prompt yesterday, I recalled a long-suppressed memory of the last time I’d gone to a tailor, something I don’t do very often. I’m an off-the-rack kind of a guy.

Anyway, I remembered one very mortifying experience visiting a tailor. It was many years ago. I mean MANY years ago. Here’s the story of that experience.

My sister was getting married in a far away city and I was an usher. Her fiancé made an appointment with a local tailor for his ushers (and his father) to get fitted for our wedding party tuxes. Five of us piled into a car and headed to the tailor.

Upon our arrival, the tailor herded all of us into a large, communal fitting room so that he could get our measurements for the tuxes. He then instructed us all to remove our shirts and trousers.

So what’s the big deal you ask? Well, back then I was a bit of a hippie. Long hair, beard, tie-dyed t-shirts, and bell-bottomed jeans.

I also went commando. Just in case you don’t know what that means, going commando involves not wearing underpants beneath your pants. For men, it’s sometimes referred to as “free-balling.”

The day we had the appointment with the tailor, I had on my bell-bottomed jeans and I was, as usual, not wearing underpants. I guess I wasn’t thinking about where we were going or what we would be doing.

So there I was with four other guys in the open fitting room and I wasn’t wearing underpants. I dropped trou, just like the other four. Fortunately, my tie-dyed t-shirt was extra long and I pulled it down as far as I could in order to better conceal my goodies.

I thought I was going to get away with being without underpants until the tailor knelt down in front of me in order to measure my inseam. Holding his cloth measuring tape in one hand, he pulled up my t-shirt with the other.

Uh oh!

Kneeling, my junk directly in front of his face at eye-level, the tailor seemed totally unfazed. He looked up at me with a blank expression on his face, as if this was a common occurrence, and politely asked, “Will you be wearing underpants at the wedding?”

That was the day I stopped going commando.

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18 thoughts on “Going Commando”

  1. a hippie. – OMGawd. I don’t believe. Were you at Wood Stock? And commando…I remember this word…where on earth did it originate. Because it was big in the 80’s if you said “go commando” everyone knew what it meant. I remember when I first heard it, I thought it meant going all Army / Marine – kick you ass mode. Until one of the neighborhood boys explained it to me. (OH and then WHY? Where did that meaning come from)

    FUNNY FUNNY, I’m surprised you didn’t give him a HEADS up first. (hahaha, gawd)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh how I wish I’d gone to Woodstock. But alas, I didn’t.

      As to how “going commando” came to mean what it means, that’s a good question, one I’ll have to research.

      As to why? Well, “free-balling.”

      And finally, “a heads up”? To quote you, OMGawd!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Wikipedia says and therefor this has to be true that going commando came from,’Slate magazine’s Daniel Engber dates the modern usage to United States college campuses circa 1974, where it was perhaps associated with soldiers in the Vietnam War, who were reputed to go without underwear to “increase ventilation and reduce moisture”. I am subscribed as one of your followers, but I never get notifications of your posts and I hope that is not because I like to go commando or sleep in the nude.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks for looking that up. I thought it might have had something to do with an Arnold Schwarzenegger/Sylvester Stallone movie, but Vietnam commandos works too.

      I’m not sure why my posts are not showing up in your reader if you’re following my blog. I don’t think WordPress monitors what people wear or do not wear beneath their pants or what they do or don’t sleep in. I thought only the NSA would know that.

      Like

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