Under

In the show that I'm in, to ward off the unhappiness of having to work on Christmas and Christmas Eve, most of the cast has put their names into a "Secret Santa" gift exchange. We can get as many gifts for the person as we want, but we will give out the big gift in between the shows on Christmas Eve.

Everyone put four or five things that they were interested in down on a piece of paper, and each of us drew those papers from a hat. The fellow that I randomly chose put down, among other things, underwear as an interest.

So I, an XL underwear wearer, went into Macy's this evening, and perused the tightie-whitie section in search of something in a medium. When I found the appropriate item (or, inappropriate item, as it were), I waited until there weren't very many people in line, and then I made my break for it, because, let's be honest, when you're buying underwear that is obviously not suited for you, you don't want to showcase it.

When it was my turn to pay, in a gesture that I only later realized was uncomfortable, I asked for a gift receipt. So, not only was I buying underwear that obviously didn't fit me, I was buying somewhat scandalous underwear as a gift. For apparently another man.

And that, children, is just about the gayest I have ever been. I'll be waiting for my ID card in the mail.