I suppose it was inevitable—something going into the washer white and coming out pinkish—in this case two of my gym towels.
I had been pretty proud of my spotless record, even though all spots are not created equal (think blueberries), and some stick around forever.
I was wrapping up the holidays, unraveling the lights and décor inside and out, waltzing the tree to the driveway (the tree led), and laundering the colorful placemats and napkins. In my calorie-laden fog I failed to notice two workout towels mixed in with the colors of Benetton. Those table settings are still new enough that they were not done sharing themselves with all they bathe with, especially vulnerable whiteys.
So now I have two pinkish workout towels to go with the six other mostly white ones.
Just to prove that I’m a guy comfortable in my skin, even when it is sweating, I grabbed a pinkish towel today as I left for the gym. I didn’t notice any of the guys approach the recliner bikes next to mine and retreat quickly.
Here’s a conversation never likely to be held by two guys in a gym:
Guy #1, “I see that you are using a pinkish towel. Are you trying to send a message, or did you screw up the laundry?”
Guy #2, “Yup, I just blotched the Laundry 101 yearend exam. But fortunately I didn’t mar anything of my wife’s.”
Guy #1, “No worries. I’d show you my pink underwear but one of my bro-friends might notice.”
Guy #2, I appreciate that, but just in case, would you mind sitting two bikes over?”
Just then, a lady in pink tights paraded by, noticed the pink towel and stopped to chat. For your available guys, pink towels could be a babe magnet. If so, maybe you should rethink pink underwear. I can show you how to make some.