You're Not Wearing What?!?!

Almost forgot (I think I tried to block it out of my mind, actually) an important detail from the India trip reunion. One of the guys who organized the trip, previously assigned the name "the Lech" for my blog, hosted the reunion at his insane mansion with an inground pool overlooking a man-made lake. He also decided that hosts need not wear underwear. Even when wearing short shorts. How do I know this super disgusting detail? At one point he had his hand in his waistband and had dragged the elastic down enough that Rachel noticed the expanse of exposed flesh, which she then pointed out to me. Not enough proof?

"Why did you show me this?" I groaned.

"Oh, at least I didn't drag you into the pool and make you look up while he was standing at the edge," she replied. "That was much worse."

The exuberant full-body hug the Lech administered to me as I left was just that much grosser knowing that he was freeballing it. I love underwear for so many reasons.