"Do you want to go to a play?" Ned called up to me as I was on episode 3494594 of Game of Thrones.
"I don't know. What's it about?" I shouted down.
"A woman who comes home for the holidays and there are family secrets."
"Oooo! Okay" I said, because I love other people's secrets. I also love other people's Sucrets. Barbara, you up?
"I'll get tickets," said Ned. "It's at Hanesbrand Theater."
Seeing as this is North Carolina, everything in the world was at one point textile-y. Buildings used to be textile factories, people used to work in textiles, when we text each other, we text about tiles. You get my drift. One company, Hanes, is still here, and they adore naming everything after themselves, such as this theater and also a mall. Of course, they also name their underwear after themselves, as they are wont to do because that's what Hanes makes.
"Oh, I love that theater," I told Ned. "Let's take the boxer with us."
We don't have a boxer, see, but boxer. Hanes. You get me. You're picking up what I'm throwing down, and what I'm throwing down in some underwear jokes.
"Okay, June," said Ned, who is over me.
"There's no music in this damn play, is there? I don't want to hear one thong." At this point I started looking for halls to rent for my commitment ceremony with myself. You're all invited. Am totally making Kleenex roses that spell out June & June.
"I got the tickets," said Ned after a moment, after which he signed up for an I Have to Deal With June support group. Support can be beautiful. See what I did, there?
"Okay, brah," I said, and then giggled at myself for a very long time.
Ned better girdle his loins, because we're on our way there now.