“Do you mind if we stop at the drug store for a second? I’ve gotta pick something up for Cheryl,” said Luke. He turned into the parking lot before getting an answer.
“Look at you, the dutiful husband,” said Glen. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d say somethin’ like that.”
Luke sighed. “Yep. Marriage changes a man.”
“What do we need to get? Better not be pads.”
“No,” said Luke. He walked with purpose among the aisles. “She needs pantyhose.”
Glen stopped dead in his tracks. “Say what?”
“Pantyhose. She needs ‘em for work.”
“No way,” said Glen, shaking his head.
“Don’t act like I’m dragging you to prison.”
“You are. A testosterone free prison.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Whatever. C’mon.”
“Okay, but we’re having an intervention after. Or maybe a detox.”
The two stood in front of a large display of hosiery. Glen wouldn’t admit it, but looking at all the different packaging had a certain arousing effect. “Pick one and let’s get out of here. I feel my manhood slipping away,” he said.
“I have to find the right ones.”
Glen looked at the labels. “What are all these things? Sheer, nude, nearly nude. It makes no sense.”
Glen picked up a pack just as an older woman passed by. He blushed and dropped the pack.
“You’re really smooth, you know that?” said Luke.
“What? Just grab something,” said Glen. He handed Luke the pack he just picked up.
“These are thigh highs,” said Luke.
“Aren’t they called stay-ups?”
“That’s a kind of diaper.”
“Whatever. You’re killing me,” said Glen. He looked around with a guilty expression.
“Relax. I think these are the ones. Let’s go,” said Luke.
“Finally. Do you have any idea what the ladies would think if they saw me here?”
“That you’re confident? Sensitive? Attractive?”
Glen punched Luke in the shoulder. “What do you know?”
“I know that I’m married and that you’re thirty and still living in your parents’ basement.”
Glen stopped in his tracks again. “That really hurt, man.”
Luke hit Glen in the shoulder. “Consider this an intervention.”