Dwight's Drafty Drawers

Wedding bells!  Fun times, wedding are.  This story is about groomsmen.  Have you ever noticed how so many of them clasp their hands in front of themselves while standing up there in front of the world?  My dad called that “The Fig Leaf Stance” and warned our groomsmen about it.

There is one groomsman though, that had good reason for using The Fig Leaf Stance. 

My friend Rox and her brother Dwight were headed to a wedding in Wisconsin.  Headed was more like speeding, because Dwight was a groomsmen, and they were late.  Late, late super late.  The country roads through dairies and fields seemed endless.

Dwight started squirming considerably in the passenger seat of her rather new car.

“Stop squirming” she asked.  “I’m doing my best to get you there on time.”

“I know.”  But he continued to squirm.

“What’s wrong?” Rox asked.  She’s a nurse and considerably older than her brother.

“Nuthin’.”

“You sure?  You gotta pee?”

“No.”

“Did you eat something that upset you?  Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Ten minutes later, Dwight said they were going to have to pull over.  Something was biting or burning his crotch.  There was nothing between them and the wedding but farm roads, so they pulled off and opened both the passenger door in the front and back.  Dwight said she was just going to have to look and see what the problem was. 

Dwight took off his suit coat and dropped his pants and underwear, kicking off one leg of his trousers.  Rox bent down and looked.

“Good grief,” she said.  “I gotta ask you, have you had any sexual encounters?”

“No!”

“It looks like you got a burn.  A bad one.”

“How would I get a burn THERE?”

“What happened to my car’s upholstery?” Roxane cried.  A big hole had been eaten into it where Dwight was sitting.

“Forget the upholstery,” Dwight said, “What is happening to my crotch?”

“Was the upholstery like that when you got in?”

“I don’t remember.”

“I think you sat in something caustic, but I can’t imagine what has been in my car.”

“Just get it off, get it off!”

Dwight could barely stand still while Rox got some water and attempted to slosh it up in Dwight’s crotch.  His underwear and pants had a hole burned into them, and they were getting later and later for the wedding.  Water dripped down his legs into his socks and shoes.

He took off his shoes and socks, and his trousers and underwear, pouring water over himself where he was burned.  Meanwhile, Rox found some tiny scissors in a sewing kit in her purse and carefully cut out the burned section of his trousers and underwear.

“What do you know about this?” she finally asked.

“Well, some of us were fixing a tractor battery and might have put it on your car’s front seat,” he muttered. 

“Great!  Look at what the battery acid did to my upholstery.”

“Look what it did to MY upholstery!  What are we going to do about the wedding?”

“I don’t think the hole I cut will show.  Put your pants back on.”

“These holes are huge!  They can see me on the moon.”

“Maybe your coat is long enough to cover it.  Put it on, let’s see.”

Dwight put the coat on.

“I can’t see anything.”

Dwight looked at himself from all angles, then tried checking himself out in the side mirror.

“Walk up the road a bit, let me see if anything is dangling out.”

“You didn’t just say that.”

“C’mon, we’re late, just walk up there.

Dwight marched, was pronounced in compliance, and hopped in the back seat.  They attended the wedding, he walked up the aisle, and stood in the fig leaf stance the whole time.  At the reception, he scooted waaaaaaaaaaay under the table and wrapped the tablecloth around himself.

Of course, I can’t help but laugh at poor Dwight’s drafty drawers whenever I attend a wedding and see groomsmen standing there clasping their hands in front of themselves.

I think he had to pay for new upholstery in the car, too.