It’s 11pm. I am wearing a big t-shirt, no bra and if the world was fair, no pants. But shorts will have to do. The heating is on but my boobs are cold and they are making an appearance tonight. They know what time it is.
I have to move my clothes from washer to dryer while I’m blasting my saved tik tok audios in my ears or 212 by Azealia Banks- this is not an easy feat. When suddenly through this transaction, my underwear fresh from the wash slaps onto the floor of the room, echoing for all of Mayor Wu’s city to hear. It made a bigger impact than the earthquake. But no- it gets worse. a tall lanky man across the room sees this incident. I don’t dare to look, but I know the tension in the room has shifted. He wants me soooo bad. (he doesn’t even know there’s another person in the room). Seeing me in my big t-shirt and slippers with the dogs out definitely has him going. I’m literally Y/N. And look, times are rough right now. Hinge has not been hitting and in the words of Sue Sylvester, “i’m tired of being surrounded by uglies.”
And essentially, this is the only time my clothes are on someone’s floor. So I’ve decided to add some spice into my life: I will continue to shamelessly let my panties fall out of the wash onto the floor for anyone to see. I’ll do a little sexy bend to pick them up and slowly toss them into the dryer with a little wrist action. I highly recommend this foolproof plan to all laundry room users. Anyone who sees this happen will have a laundry list of things they want to do to you against that vibrating washing machine. This is what Mitski always wanted. Get in #mycalvins #pleaseimbegging