Dear Gym Shorts That Are Not In My Gym Bag,

I think we need to talk, Gym Shorts That Are Not In My Gym Bag. This has to stop happening. We’ve had this problem a couple of times before and, seriously, I thought things would improve. I thought you could change. Do you know how it makes me feel when I get into the locker room, carefully remove and hang up my business-casual attire, and attempt to change into you, only to find you missing? Don’t you know how I wonder where you are? How this could have happened? Do you think I can’t hear the snickers as I walk, dejected, out past the other people in the locker room? Well, I can. And it hurts.

Oh, don’t try to turn this around on me. Forgetful!? That’s rich. I’m the one making all the effort here. Everyone else made it into the bag; the socks were there, Wake Forest Men’s Track T-shirt showed up, even the change of underwear, the usual culprit, was right there in the bag. But where were you when I needed you? Sitting on the bed, right where I left you this morning. You hadn’t even moved!

You know, when I bought you, you were full of promise. You entered my life at a time when things were turning around. You represented hope, the promise of a new day, as well as stylish performance. But the breathability of your fabric belied your commitment. We were supposed to be a team. And a team is only as strong as its weakest member. That weakest member is you, my friend.

The promise of that day, three weeks ago, at Sports Authority, seemed like forever ago as I stood there on the cold tile in my black work socks and boxer briefs. Gym Shorts That Are Not In My Gym Bag, I’m disappointed. I thought we had something. I guess I was wrong.

J. Mohan