Knicker Fetish

I was reading our local freebie paper on Friday evening, it's mostly advertising but they carry a few articles of local interest and one thing in particular caught my eye, a small headline about theft from washing lines. So what, I hear you say, but it brought a smile to my face and vivid memories of an incident which happened ages ago and very close to home. Before I drafted it I asked P to read it and if there was anything I'd missed out, P said there was one point where he'd thought punches might get thrown but it didn't happen.

Anyway, years ago we owned a busy pub/restaurant/nightclub on a main road with villages close by, a large town a few miles away. We had an excellent young commis chef who wanted to go abroad for 6 months so we advertised for a new one, good initial response but only 2 actually came to interview, probably the wages which were and are still low in that profession, even though we provided food and lodging. P and the chef made their choice, wrong one in my opinion, bit of a loner, and we started him on a month trial, he was about 19 years old and moved into the staff quarters, were our head chef and assistant manager were also living.

Everything was kind of OK with the lad, our head chef said he was a bit slow and had to tell him things 2-3 times but it did finally click and hey he was young and still training so we said bear with him to see if he picks up.

Around the end of his 3rd week, summer just starting, nice warm days, when one afternoon I was walking back from taking our German Shepherd out for her afternoon run when I thought I saw our young chef in the back yard which we used for barbecues sometimes I put washing out there, the live-in staff used it too but always asked first. I thought no more about it. I took my washing in and put it in a pile ready for ironing. I was missing a couple of pairs of knickers when I got round to ironing and went back into the yard to see if I'd dropped them but they weren't there, so I must have made a mistake.

The incident was forgotten until few days later when the boy was on his 2 days leave and had travelled back home, our cleaners, who gave the staff quarters a spruce up once a week, went into his room to hoover as it was unlocked. Our dog was following them round in and out the rooms and when she came back to me in the restaurant, which was closed, she had a pile of girl's knickers in her jaws. I took them off her, a pair of mine was amongst them, but there were half a dozen foreign pairs too all covered in dog slobber.

Now we had no live-in girl staff so either the chef or assistant was having a good time and keeping trophies (mine excepted) or there was something odd going on. I went upstairs, the cleaners had finished, our dog nosed her way into the commis chef's room and made straight for his wardrobe, stood there tail wagging. I wasn't going to open the door so I called P, told him what had happened, he opened the door no hesitation and a pile of knickers fell out onto the floor, the dog grabbing another mouthful. I found my second missing pair too. So our young chef apparently had a knicker fetish, he must have been taking them from clothes lines because they weren't new and there was no way he'd collected trophies, he didn't even have a girlfriend at all.

So how to sort that one out? These days with HR written warnings etc it would have been a nightmare, but P just took him aside when he returned after his break, sat him down and asked him how come he'd got his wife's knickers in his wardrobe, together with about three dozen other assorted pairs. The boy just broke down, cried, admitted he'd been taking them from the washing lines in the village. God if ever the locals had found out they'd have killed him. P told him he'd have to leave, either that or he'd involve the police. The boy's parents came up on the night to speak with P and argue on behalf of their son, saying it was just a prank and everyone needed a break but P wouldn't consider it. I remember it actually getting quite heated and the boy's dad was up off his seat gesticulating and mouthing loudly, apparently they were unable to believe their son was a bit weird, P said well let's go and call him in then, right now, and hear what he's got to say directly about it but the parents didn't want to do that.

Eventually they left and took their son with them. Next day his elder brother was sent to fetch his belongings from his room, minus the knickers of course. We tied all the knickers into a black plastic bin liner and threw them into the bulk waste bin, I let my own two pairs go with them, didn't fancy wearing them after that.

We laugh about it now but it wasn't funny at the time.

Ronnie

xx