Boxers to the rescue

Two of our three dogs are mutts. Cassie, the eldest, is an Aussie Cattle Dog mix and Zack is a lab and who-knows-what else mix. Only Zeus is a purebred, a Siberian Husky.

I’ve never had a Boxer.

I’ve never even liked the underwear.

Until today.

The one part of cruising that is never enjoyable is the disembarkation – getting off the ship for you non-cruisers. You have to pack your bag the night before and leave it outside your cabin by 11pm. One time, years ago when I still drank, Ransom and I enjoyed too much wine at dinner, came back to the cabin and passed out before packing and putting our luggage outside. It wasn’t til morning we realized our mistake. The staff was NOT happy.

Last night we didn’t make that mistake; our three bags were out in the hallway by 11pm. All packed.

A bit too well packed it turned out.

At perhaps 11:15 I realized that the pants I was planning on wearing off the ship were not hanging in the closet. They were not laid out on the bed or hanging in the bathroom. They were instead in one of our suitcases – one of our suitcases that was already deep in the belly of the ship, waiting to be off-loaded in the early morning. I frantically looked outside to see if maybe one suitcase was still in the hall.

It wasn’t.

I’m a briefs kind of guy. I had a fresh pair, socks, shoes and shirt, but no pants to wear off the ship. Luckily Ransom is a boxers kind of guy and had a clean extra pair of plain grey ones. From a distance, with a cursory look, anyone would think they were shorts, right? I’d be fine, right? All I had to do was make it to my suitcase, grab a pair of real shorts and all would be well.

It didn’t quite turn out that way. Don’t get excited, this tale does not take an R-rated turn, but I did end up wearing those boxers over my briefs for far longer than anticipated. When I collected my suitcase we worried that the customs officials might not look kindly on my rooting through it, so we just kept going. Then we were all of a sudden in the queue for a cab, then in the cab, then in the hotel checking the bag because our room was not yet ready – and there was I -- still in Ransom’s boxers.

For the next six hours! Hanging around the pool, going across the street for some Church’s fried chicken, more hang time – it wasn’t til 3:45pm that we got into our room and I got out of Ransom’s underwear.

A sartorial experience I will not soon forget.