A friend of mine who is a bartender told me she sold her panties to a customer one night.
She said it was a slow night, there were no customers to speak of and “this dude” offered her $200 dollars for her panties. So she went to the bathroom, put the panties in a bag and sold them to the guy.
Fast forward about a week later. It’s yet another slow night at the bar (It’s just a neighborhood dive) Same dude comes in and sits at the bar. At this point she’s regretting her stupid decision to her panties to the guy. Mainly because it’s just him and her sitting at the bar. The only two other customers there are two men playing pool at the far end of the building.
So my friend goes to the back to grab a bucket of ice. As she does so, creepy dude follows her back there and pens her up against the wall. He then tries to grope her. At this point she screams “Jason!!” (one of the two guys playing pool.) The two guys came running over there but creepo took off before they could get their hands on him.
Jesus fuck! If that isn’t the creepiest horrifying story that’s happened to a close friend of mine, I don’t know what is.
*Panties ain’t easy to sell and they’re harder to wash.
They’d rather go into the garbage than sell ‘em for cash.
Fruit of the Loom labels and curly pubic hair,
And each morn begins a new pair.
If you don’t understand it, an’ if they gets tore,
You’ll prob’ly just toss 'em away.
Mamas, don’t sell your undies to creepy ol’ cowboys.
Don’t let 'em sniff them or hang 'em up in trucks.
Let ‘em be dustrags and compost and such.
Mamas, don’t sell your undies to creepy ol’ cowboys.
'Cos they might come and grab ya and they’re always perverts.
'Specially with undies they they love.
Perverts like smelly old panties and two girls, one cup,
Little Pony porn and bondage and dates you blow up.
Them that do know him won’t like him and them that do,
Sometimes will swear out a warrant.
He ain’t gay, he’s just different but his dick won’t let him,
Do things to make you think he’s sane.
Mamas, don’t sell your undies to creepy ol’ cowboys.
Don’t let 'em sniff them or hang 'em up in trucks.
Let ‘em be dustrags and compost and such.
Mamas, don’t sell your undies to creepy ol’ cowboys.
'Cos they might come and grab ya and they’re always perverts.
'Specially with undies they they love.*
Agreeing to play along with the kinks of random weirdos is ill-advised, no matter how much lovely, tempting cash is offered. “This dude” spent the ensuing week doing yanky-cranky over those panties and building a fixation on your friend in the process. One hopes she learned from this experience and is watching for “this dude” to re-appear. He’s still moving to and fro in the world and Jason et.al. can’t always be there.
I think this has less to do with the selling or the panties and more to do with the guy in question. Sounds like he is fixated on her, and the panties were just a way to get that much closer.
If he’s willing to do something like that in public then he he might be willing to do worse. She should start taking extra precaution around the bar in case the nutbag tries something when he thinks she doesn’t have anyone else around.
And only based on the relevant Cracked article I would say that 200 for one pair of panties is a really high price to pay. Meaning that it’s less “want girls panties” and more creepy stalker-ish