Panty Hose

Pantyhose
Written by Fletcher “Butchwax” Ferguson

One would think, having been married for some thirty five years, that I would be an unmitigated expert when it comes to pantyhose. Quite the contrary, I know very little about the topic. About all I can tell you is where they are and where they have been, and I really don’t want to know that much.

What I do know is pantyhose can be found everywhere. No woman is ever without several pair, in different colors. What is really scary is the sizes they come in. What is a plus size any way? What exactly does control top control? It certainly does not control where they have been, where they are or the behavior of the one that has them on. It certainly has no effect on what comes out of the wearer’s mouth. At my house they have been found in some of the darnedest places.

Floor space at my house is at a premium but there is plenty of room for pantyhose. That said, there has not been a square inch of flooring where a discarded pair of pantyhose has not been found, either by me or the dog. Why the wife does not find them is a mystery. Besides the floor, they are found on chairs, every chair at one time or another, in my blue jeans, in my dress shirts, inside the pillow case, in my sock drawer, on top the computer and on the dinning room table. Yes where I eat, or rather where I used to eat. Why don’t they disappear like socks? Evidently the dog has grown tried of the things and has taken to burying them in between the sofa cushions and pillows.

I like many other men, have had to wade through them on the way to the shower. Once hung to dry, they are like a polyester forest. I have found them soaking in the kitchen sink, the tub and the bathroom sink. I have found then on a towel on the back deck drying in the summer sun. Tripping over them in the dark one night, I thought I was being attacked by the “Thing!”  I believe one time I found a new pair still in the egg…  in the refrigerator . It seems one of my sons thought they were the off spring of an alien life form, a real egg and should be in the frig. Well, that’s where all the other eggs are kept. I asked him, “Did you think we were going to eat it!“  He just looked at me.

The used variety do have some use, but telling your wife to save a pair so as to be cut up in order to slop some homemade catfish bait into and tie on to a fish hook, which by the way did not work, only encourages a women to not throw them away. There are hundreds of them in grocery bags in my basement. Nobody, I mean no reputable trash service,  recycles them and you really should not send them to the land fill as they do not degrade. Even though they smell like they should. Now there is a million dollar idea, bio-degradable pantyhose. Save the planet, to order yourself a pair, dial 1-800-bio-hose.

One time, while on a trip, I lost the fan belt on the old truck I was driving. The wife had the only solution to the problem. Only problem was, she was wearing the answer, and would not take them off.  Here we were miles from anywhere and she would not take her pantyhose off for me in the truck. (She used to.) Finally, after much debate, she parted with them fully confident that they would not serve as an emergency fan belt. She was wrong, didn’t slip a bit. Besides those two functional uses and the fact they do improve on the over all looks of a women’s legs, I don’t like the damn things.

The very first reason and one that at this point is of no concern, is they got in the way of things. As a older teen, as I was exploring the birds and the bees, pantyhose were an impenetrable  fortress. They were an impossible barrier and became a real turn off. I hate the way they feel. I won’t touch them. Today I use a special pair of salad tongs to pick them up off the floor.

Finding a discarded pair under the sheets really angers me. One reason for that is that my wife would wear them to bed during a certain time of the month. She explained in way to much detail, how pantyhose helped hold her pad in place.  She then of course wanted to cuddle and would throw her pantyhose covered leg over mine. I could not sleep until it was removed. Finding a wild pair under the sheets makes a fellow wonder what else may have come loose.

As result, the sight of used panty hose disgusts me. A reaction that has given me a label. I am considered a panty waste. I suppose it was for that reason the term was developed in the first place. Tough rugged men that fear pantyhose. Pantyhose obviously are not my favorite thing. I would much prefer a woman in silk nylons. O baby now there is a accessory. Pleasing to the eye, and really nice to touch.

 I am currently meeting weekly with a men’s support group to discuss how pantyhose has affected us. We go fishing.  Yes I have PHDD. That’s pantyhose disgust disorder. There is no known cure.