There it was by the wall in the hallway–someone’s grungy ugly underwear. It looked like it must have been white at some point, but was now a dingy gray like maybe someone had used it to mop the floors. Who would have left their underwear there? It was so disgusting! My dorm mates and I all took our turns stopping and staring, and everyone wished that whoever the owner was would come and pick them up. But no one did pick them up. They must have lain there for over a week. I even remember one of the maintenance men walking by and wrinkling his nose at the sight.
The chapel speaker that week spoke on being a servant and doing the unlovely deeds. A few of our dorm mates were sitting together and someone whispered, “Like picking up the grungy underwear in the hallway!” and we all snickered.
I happened to have a free period after chapel. I was alone in the dorm, and as I walked by the underwear, I felt convicted about the chapel message, so I decided to do the dirty deed. I went to the bathroom, grabbed some paper towels (I certainly didn’t want to touch it) and went to pick up the infamous wad. I didn’t breathe and held it at arms length as I walked the distance to the bathroom where the big trashcan was located. I very carefully pushed the flap open and let go of my unwanted cargo.
As it fell into the trashcan I saw a brief flash of the initials E.T. written with a sharpie on the tag. The very same way that I had to label all of my clothes at boarding school. . . .