I think each of us has a story to relate about an embarrassing purchase. After my mom stopped dressing me in girls’ clothes at age 14, I rarely wore them afterwards. However, I was also kept in night diapers until I was 14, and by the time I was finally out of them, I was an incipient diaper fetishist.
By the time I was 16 I was buying Curity 21”x 40” gauze diapers which could be found everywhere. Finding large-size plastic pants, however, was a problem. A couple of sources were from Sears and Wards catalogs as well as hospital supply stores. At those places I’d buy pairs of snap-on incontinent pants which were usually flannel-lined plastic. I’d carefully cut away the flannel lining so I’d have something that reasonably resembled snap-on plastic pants which I’d wear with my diapers.
As with many others, I’d go through my buy-and-purge cycles. One summer, when I was 19, I decided to stock up again. I drove over to a large hospital supply company located across the street from a hospital in the city where I lived at the time. The idea was to find a couple pairs of plastic incontinent pants which I could convert for wearing over diapers.
I was in for a rude surprise when I saw that the young man behind the counter (probably a summer job) had been the star quarterback at my high school from back in my junior year. Since I did not hang out with the “cool” crowd, I fervently hoped he didn’t recognize me. I summoned up my courage and told him what I was looking for. I gave him a general size but did not indicate just who the incontinent pants were for (I’d sometimes say they were for a grand-aunt).
The guy went to the back and returned with a box, but I was disappointed that the pants were plasticized rayon (which did nothing for me). Disappointed, I was ready to buy them anyway when the guy said, “Wait a minute—I have something that will fit you much better.” I was somewhat shaken as he had seen through me ruse right away and surmised I was buying the incontinent pants for myself.
He returned and this time the pants were the ones I wanted—flannel-lined plastic. I don’t know if I was able to adequately conceal my excitement, but I quickly paid for the pants and promptly left (although I didn’t want to appear that I wanted to leave ASAP, which I did). Anyway, I always wondered if the guy recognized me from high school but didn’t let on owing to the “sensitivity” of the transaction.