When I was a kid, I was picky about my underwear. The texture of most fabrics made me nervous. There was something in the cotton weave that made my skin crawl, made me shudder every time it caught inside me. I preferred cheap silky polyester fabric. I liked how it billowed out instead of crawling up my crevices.

Of course, as I grew older, they stopped making underwear like that. It was probably flammable, toxic, or something. I had to adjust to the concept of regular underwear. I had to adjust to the feeling, the constant reminder I had something down there.