On the way to work, a Range Rover cut me off on Melrose Avenue. I held up my hand, pointed it in the direction of the offending vehicle and waited for all four tires to go flat.
At work, I dropped a pen on the floor. I focused my mind on it and pictured it flying into my open hand with a satisfying slap. Like it was attached with an invisible rubber band.
I gave the underwear one more chance to prove its power. At home after dinner, I squinted my eyes, waiting for the dishes to wash themselves.
Before I went to bed, I took off the Intense Power underwear and tossed the pair into the dirty clothes hamper.
Perhaps it’s just underwear, I told myself. Nothing more.
They were comfortable, though.