The Prairie Spy

Alan “Lindy” Linda

Not too long ago, at a trip to a local Target store, we found that the men’s underwear display was behind glass, under lock and key. Really? 

We asked a clerk–what was the deal? Was men’s underwear suddenly so valuable that it was what? Maybe going to be the new medium of exchange? As in, once money was deer hides–which is where the term “buck” came from. Then it was silver. Then it was gold, then it was greenbacks, then it was some kind of made-up computer money called Bitcoin, and now? 

I feel like it’s getting harder and harder to keep up with what’s going on out in the world. That I’m behind the curve on almost everything. New foods. New electric cars. New cell phone-computers. New on and on. 

So is this the new money?  Men’s underwear?  Once again, am I the last to know? Why else are they locking it up? Underwear for money. The new “greenbacks,” whew. Only now it would of course be the new “brownbacks.” Or better yet: “Brownies.”  As in: How much for that gallon of milk? Answer: Four Brownies.

I missed out on the whole “bitcoin” fad. I ain’t gonna miss out on “brownbacks,” you betcha. So maybe brownies won’t be the next money in your pocket–or, behind your pocket, as it would be. Brownies would eliminate lost billfolds. Another plus. No more anxiety over a lost wallet. Much more difficult to lose your brownies. Being they’re under there.

So taking this one step further, I can see myself at the next garage sale, where I am looking for something to cure this “garage sale virus” that seems to afflict me. The owner of this lawn chair which I suddenly have to, have to, have to, have, finally allows me to haggle him down to two square inches of brownback. 

I’m not sure I can predict the next step in that future money exchange, you know? 

But one pair of scissors and a moment with my back turned and bingo! I have paid the person 1/10th of a brownie–in much the same way that a silver dollar was once cut into quarters–and now I own another lawn chair. I have in fact traded a swatch of my underwear for goods, but now I’m feeling a bit of a draft. Down there. Perhaps if brownbacks become popular, we will buy less. Especially up north here. In the winter.

Perhaps you have yourself thought ahead to the next step in the Undies for Money future, and that is colored underwear, a color representing a one-dollar bill, say, white. Blue for a fiver; Green for…..and so one.

Ah, the future. So hard to predict.

But back to the present, and the theft problems that large department-dollar-box stores are having.  I remember when tools had to be locked up, but now more and more, they are not. We can conclude that no man wants to work anymore. They just want to change their underwear more. One more thing that seems important and barely relevant here–womens’ underwear is not under lock and key. I don’t know what that means, but it’s worrisome. Do they know something we don’t?

But back to Target: We found the person who was responsible for the underwear museum–well, it’s kind of like a museum, where you look at old arrowheads and 19th-century stuff inside a locked glass case. Only now it’s mens’ underwear. I asked him: Are you the salesman responsible for locking up the underwear?

He replied: “Kind of, but now I’m an Assett Protection Officer.”

A what?

He repeated: “An Asset Protection Officer. I’m trained to….”

Note to the reader: I made up a lot of this stuff. I did not make up the Officer Asset stuff.

Sometimes I just cannot beat reality.