Pluckin' G Strings (and not the kind on your guitar)

So recently I had to do something that I absolutely loathe and trapse into one of those big box retailers to get my oil changed while picking up some muscle rub (due to sore muscles from hot yoga) and some groceries. The convience of getting to do it all in one place at one time was far too inticing, especially since the day was cold, complete with blustery wind and snow. Had this been a beautiful spring day, I would have been more than happy with leaving work and moving from store to store to shop at more local retailers while enjoying the drive between each establishment with the windows down and the music blaring.

However, on this particular day, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I pulled my vehicle up in front of the garage of the big box car lube place to find a young girl, far too heavy for her age, standing outside in short sleeves with no coat on. I roll down my window and offer to step inside to write up the ticket for the oil change to which she replies, "No, it's okay." while shivering. The snow was accumulating on her hair, her breasts and her bare arms. I thought for a moment that this girl was going to turn into a real life snowperson right in front of my eyes and I nearly giggled outloud.

As I walked through the store, in my work uniform mind you, I realize that I must pee. Seeking a bathroom, I realize that my underware has thoroughly shifted from where it should be. My boyshorts were quickly becoming a thong. Unsure of how long my panties had been migrating towards the depths of my butt crack, I quickly waved my hands along my buttcheeks to feel for my pantylines. They were definitely not where they were supposed to be. Finally rounding a corner through an aisle of permanent markers and yarn, I find the bathroom. Ah, relief.

As I exited the bathroom, I walked a little taller, not only because I was no longer weighed down by a massively full bladder but also because I confidently knew that my boy shorts were a mystery once again, having put them back in their proper place, I could now glide comfortably through the aisles.

I am fully aware that I suffer from the VPL on many occasions. VPL? Visible panty line. They aren't generally attractive but there are moments that I don't care. Those moments tend to be when I am at work. I am currently between pant sizes and the larger size are too saggy while the smaller size tend to lie like latex on my ass. Oh well, I'm at work... I figure that most people aren't looking at my ass because I spend my days facing my guests and talking directly to them. Also, I can't work in certain panties as my job is incredibly active and there are certain underware styles that just don't mesh with active movement.

Contemplating all of this as I walk through the big box aisles, shopping quickly for my list: Bengay, fresh spinach, cereal, turkey, apples, I realize that the VPL really isn't that big of a deal. Figuring that my vehicle is probably done getting it's lube job, I make my way to the back of the store and find a woman sitting on a bench crocheting. "She must be getting her tires fixed or something," I think to myself as I sit down on the end of the bench opposite her. There is nobody at the counter... no employees in sight except for one woman on crutches who is apparently in charge of staring at the door that nobody is going in or out of.

After sitting for a good 5 minutes, I glance at the counter and see some papers with my car keys on top. I look at the woman on crutches and say, "These are my keys, my vehicle must be ready." to which she replied, "Oh, I don't work back here, I'm just standing here because I got hurt."

My head cocked to the left, a perplexed expression on my face, I can't help but wonder how much she's getting paid to stand next to a door. "Someone will be back in a few minutes," she says. At this point, I could feel my blood start to boil, I had things to do, the weather was crappy and I had been at work all day. I just wanted to get home and make dinner and settle in for a cozy evening with my roommate.

As the clock on the wall ticked by, I could hear my blood pressure rising. A single piece of paper lay on the floor under the door woman's feet. Turning around and bending down to pick it up, I find my eyes popping out of their sockets at the same time that my mouth dropped open! I could not believe that this woman was not only wearing pants that were incredibly too tight but that I could see the perfect definition of the whale tail of her thong right through her pants! This was a total OMG moment as I could not believe that 1. she was wearing a thong to work at a big box retailer, 2. that a thong could be comfortable with an ass as big as hers, and 3. that her pants were so tight you could see the nearly invisible underware right through them!

It was at this moment that I realized that my VPL's were not nearly as impressive or as important as this womans. I no longer felt insecure where as you might think that I would be now more insecure regarding the visibility of my panties through my pants. I wear only black pants to work which naturally minimizes what you can see. This woman was wearing light colored khakis. And ever since that moment, I have been noticing that more and more women have taken control of their control tops and that you don't see too many whale tails or other forms of the visible panty line. I have instead noticed that in order to avoid such fashion faux pas, we are now getting to see more butt cracks than ever. I'm not sure which is the lesser of the two evils.

Ladies, take notes, if your pants are so tight that you have incredibly visible panty lines, putting on a thong is not going to fix the problem. Buying bigger pants or losing some weight will fix the problem. I don't like spending my day picking my underware out of my butt and readjusting them. I have more important things to do. However, if you want to spend your day pluckin' your own g-string, be my guest.