Last week was the Lost and Found Sale in the Wood Center. It's just like an indoor garage sale, except they have much cooler things since their previous owners weren't intending on getting rid of them in the first place.

The usual items found at the sale are hats, gloves, binders, and random articles of clothing. I've seen dresses, pants and shirts, and I'm always curious how they got there. There're binders, books and jewelry. Some things, like water bottles and hats, I tend to steer clear of just because I don't know who had germs or lice or whatever, but most of the other things are pretty safe bets.

I usually go straight for the books. I have a love for anything containing pages and binding, though none of the books this time interested me. Instead, I bought a necklace and red umbrella.

Just last year, some of my friends and I were sitting together in the Wood Center when we heard an announcement that the sale had begun. My friend Joyce and I went and perused the items and found, among other strange and interesting items, a pair of blue plaid boxers.

Lifting them gingerly with the tips of my forefinger and thumb, I pondered its existence at this sale. Who had they belonged to? Had they been washed? What was the circumstance in which they had been lost? I hoped they had been found in a dryer.

Who would buy someone's lost underwear? Who would wear underwear that once belonged to someone else? (I've actually wondered this quite a bit when I undies at garage sales and Value Village. I don't care how many times said garments have been washed, I think I wouldn't be able to handle the idea.)

Joyce and I had a mischievous idea.

Our friend (whom I will call Joe) had left his backpack unwatched downstairs, and he probably wasn't going to be back for a while. Joe often teases us mercilessly. We could easily slip the boxers into his backpack, draw them out when he returned and question him mercilessly about them. He would be sure to at least turn red. So we embarked upon it.

We enlisted the help of another of our friends. Upon Joe's return our friend (Freda, let's say) pulled the boxers out of Joe's backpack with a what-have-we-here look on her face.

"What's this, Joe?" Freda asked, waving them around.

Joe looked surprised, embarrassed and almost nervous. He spoke rapidly in his defense. "

What? I don't know how those got there, they're not mine, I don't even wear boxers!"

"T.M.I.! T.M.I.!" we all exclaimed, but we had got an even better reaction out of him than we thought we would. Later we found that he was planning revenge on Freda (for that's who he suspected.) He was going to put guy underwear in Freda's room and girl underwear in her boyfriend's room in hopes their respective parents discovering them. Joyce remarked to me, "He doesn't get even, he gets odd." I agreed.

I didn't notice any undergarments at the sale this time around. I consider this a good thing. Hopefully this time around people have learned to keep better track of the whereabouts of their underwear.