A brief panic

Driving home last night, there it was …

By the side of the road.

On the shoulder.

On its side.

A sneaker.

Tennis shoe.

Casual footwear.

Left behind by someone.

How do you lose a shoe on the highway?

Do you fling it out the window because the Odor Eater finally gave out? Does it slip off your sweaty foot during your morning jog?

How does this happen?

This made me think of something else I found recently. In the water park.

Underwear.

A grown man’s pair of underwear–abandoned–in the middle of a walkway.

How did this happen?

I was finishing up a tour of Splashin’ Safari with yet another travel writer. She’d already remarked about how clean the park appeared. We’d passed a napkin and I’d quickly scooped it up and disposed of it in one of the zillion trash cans Mrs. Koch has spaced evenly throughout the park.

And there they were.

Up ahead.

Gleaming, snowy-white in the brilliant sunshine.

A pair of … tighty whities.

Oh, no.

While explaining our Free Sunscreen to the writer, my eyes dashed wildly about, hoping to find …

What? Someone looking for an errant pair of undies?

Well, you never know.

As we got closer, the decision-making time had arrived. Gotta do it. Gotta pick those puppies up.

“Goodness! Look at this! Someone lost something here … I’ll bet they had just changed into their swim trunks and lost these on their way back to their locker.”

Can’t just leave them lying there. Pick them up. Now! Grimacing only slightly, I used my fingernails to gingerly snag the edge of the still-springy elastic waistband.

Now what?

They didn’t look … well … used.

Rather a shame to throw underwear out. But who in their right mind will call a park the next day, “Um…did you find my … um … well, you know …” I consulted the employee closest to me — over in Locker Rental: Anyone report a missing pair? No? Hmmmm … okay, thanks.

Now, socks, I’ll put on top of the nearest trash can. If they’re still there at close, into the dumpster they go. But isn’t a trash receptacle topped with someone’s unmentionables rather … unseemly?

The travel writer started to get quite interested in my dilemma. Shifting focus in this way is not advisable. Flip went the flap on the trash can. Gone. Whew!

I do apologize to the poor man who undoubtedly experienced chafing on his way home that night. If, sir, you also lost a sneaker on your drive home, please send me an email and we’ll get it back to you — it’s the least I can do.
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