I had a travel dilemma.
The lights were dimmed and I lied down on the massage table facing down. A candle was lit, its sandalwood fragrance soon filled the air. I was in a perfect place but all I could think about was my underpants.
I had booked a day spa treatment to relieve some of the tension from traveling hard. I had been looking forward to it all day as I did my day’s worth of sightseeing, until I remembered that morning our laundry day wasn’t until the next day, and I had run out of good underpants.
Out came a spare fair from the bottom of my suitcase, originally brought to fill gaps between the neck of wine bottles. Torn, lose and wearing thin, they were the only option I had, and up to now it seemed like a good idea.
I once read in one of those glossy glamor magazines that women are the worst judge of ourselves, and if you are wearing something out of place, it is often a woman that would notice first.
Australian journalist Catherine Taylor wrote that in Beirut, when you walk into a shop or restaurant, women’s eyes will be on you. From the brand of your shoes to the length of your skirt, to the cut of the neckline and the color of your nail polish, they will take note of everything and decide whether you are worth their while to socialize with.
READ MORE: Handing over my dirty underwear
Perhaps I was over thinking my situation, but as my therapist began to adjust the position of the towel on my hips, I braced for the worst.
“Nice tattoo”, she said with a smile, fingers prodding the area just above my hip bone.
So she didn’t notice, or was she just being a professional? I am, after all, paying a lot of money for her to be gentle with me.
Do you have any embarrassing pants stories?! Don’t be shy – we won’t judge!