Crossing the Line

On Friday at a site visit for work one of my coworkers showed me the llama socks she was wearing. We have a shared affinity for llamas; her kids call her Llama and I call my mom Llama. We are clearly quite adorable.

Upon seeing the socks I paused and peeked up into the corner of my brain, trying to remember the underwear I had put on that morning. Recently I had replaced some of my old underwear and, being an adult child, I obviously purchased wildly patterned underwear. In addition to the Game of Thrones and Star Wars undies, I now also own pairs featuring dragons, cats, coffee cups, books, and, of course, llamas. So on Friday, standing with a small group of coworkers, I was trying to remember if I was wearing the llamas so that I could share that I also was wearing a piece of llama clothing.

I explained to the group what I was trying to remember and they laughed and said something like, “we don’t need to see your underwear!” To which I replied, “I wasn’t going to show them to you, I was just going to say I was wearing them!” We all laughed about it and I think we were all relieved that the boundaries of the situation were clear.

But I must tell you, gentle reader, that had I actually been wearing the llama undies instead of the coffee cups, I almost certainly would have grabbed the waistband and pulled them up out of my pants to show the llamas to the world. And my knowledge of this fact is where I begin to question my grasp on basic boundaries and propriety.

Some things are decidedly private and considered impolite to share with the general public, but I have found that these things vary depending on the people you are with. Romantical encounters are pretty much always private and not polite to share, unless you’re with a group of trusted friends and even then it is generally understood that anything shared remains confidential. I don’t believe I’ve ever encountered anyone who was publicly forward about their love life with the exception of drunk people.

Then there are the subjects which are technically private, but are also more accepted if acknowledged in company, like bodily functions. For example, around my family and friends when I have to pee I just say, “I have to pee.” Then I go to the bathroom. I say it at work too when with one or two of my closer coworkers, but if I were in a meeting and needed the restroom I would probably excuse myself with either a vague reason or I would say, “I’m going to the restroom.” I suppose this is more polite, not forcing people to know exactly what I’m doing in the bathroom. Although, let’s be serious, there are only a handful of things that one does in the bathroom so it’s no great secret. But still, it seems more polite and appropriate to avoid saying “I gotta pee.”

Poops and farts are another thing altogether. I have spent the majority of my life being greatly embarrassed by the basic human need of pooping and passing gas. It always seemed like something to be laughed at and so I preferred to keep it to myself. That seems to be the habit that most people follow as well. There seems to be a general shyness around pooping. There are only two people in my life around whom I openly discuss poops or would even consider farting audibly. While I’m free and easy with letting people know I have to pee, I am much more secretive about my pooping needs, much like everyone else.

Here is where I get confused with the bodily function thing: while poops and farts are private and somehow embarrassing, there is a shocking number of people who are very open with their tales of barfing. This I do not comprehend in the slightest. I have encountered people who are very private with all things in their life, but will go into great detail regarding a 24 hour bug they had the other day. Excuse me, friend, but I do not need to know about you being curled in the fetal position on your bathroom floor. It is simply not information I need and I find it deeply unsettling that you want to share this with me, but then can’t also say the word “diarrhea”.

This anomaly makes absolutely no sense to me. How is barfing fair game for polite company, but we cannot also then talk about pooping, which is a far more frequent experience for human beings? Barfing makes one much more vulnerable in my opinion, one of the many reasons I greatly fear that bodily function. Perhaps it is the vulnerability itself that makes people want to talk about it. They lived through a disgusting and vulnerable moment and they are driven to share it with others to be reminded that they’re not alone and to maybe share the triumph of surviving.

I don’t know. It’s hard to rationalize a thing you do not understand. All I know is that for me when someone tells a tale of gastro-intestinal revolution, I am typically revolted and wish they’d never broached the subject. But then there are always others in the room who, upon hearing one disgusting story, feel compelled to share an equally disgusting vignette from their own experience, or something they witnessed or heard about. All of this in polite company. I am always confused and alarmed by these conversations.

While I feel that poops and farts should be more socially acceptable to discuss and I will campaign on that issue in the next election, I understand the lack of comfort many have in discussing such subjects. Considering this, I would draw the line of propriety at the occasional mention of pee. Outside of a tinkle, I think all bodily functions should be kept to oneself largely for the comfort of those around us. (This is, of course, in polite company only. With friends and family all bets are off.)

Which brings me back to my underwear quandary. I know around my close companions I can grab a fistful of undies and show everyone the cute pattern gracing my backside for the day. But honestly there is a part of me that would be completely comfortable sharing my underbritches in polite company at work too. The reasons are many, I reckon. First, I feel comfortable with the majority of my work colleagues. They know what I’m like so they probably wouldn’t be surprised to see me show off my fundies (that’s fun undies). Secondly, my underwear is roughly the size of a circus tent and quite stretchy. I could easily pull some of the fabric above the waistband of my pants and show it to anyone without revealing anything even slightly risque. And thirdly, I do have a pretty big case of the “I-don’t-give-a-shits” as well as very weak filters. These are things I should definitely look into addressing, lest I find myself meeting someone important and proper only to exclaim exuberantly, “You like coffee?! I have coffee cups on my underwear!”

It is hard to tell sometimes what crosses a line and what doesn’t. The most complicated part is that different people have varied understandings of propriety. It is almost impossible to make it through daily interactions with humans without at some point putting your foot in it. The thing I try to remind myself is that just because I’m comfortable sharing something doesn’t mean that the people around me want to hear (or see) what I’ve got to share. This is something we should all consider before opening our big mouths to tell something that is borderline private.

I am grateful to my colleagues for reminding me that they don’t need to see my underwear, no matter how cute it is. That line is clearly drawn before me, although I know I will be tempted to cross it time and again because seriously, my undies are really cute.