Cheap and comfy underwear without a side of sexy

I hate Victoria's Secret. I hate that it's so damn cheap. And I hate that it's so damn cheap. Many girls love VS because their bras are cheap, cute, comfy, yada yada. Me? It's painful to go in there. I try to get underwear, and underwear only and since they opened their new shop today they no longer have the 7 pairs for $26 that I heard about but if you need new underwear what are you gonna do, wear your really blood-stained brown pair again? Exactly. 5 for $26 is one of the best underwear deals I've seen for tiny people like me. But the problem is, it smells. It smells like everything I hate about women; faintly metallic with an overdose of sugar alcohols. And everyone keeps asking me in a bubbly saccharine voice if I need help. And I say no, thank you, because I know what I want and I'm gonna try to make this as quick as possible to spend less than 10 minutes inside one of your sparkly fuschia stores. But when I get to the fitting room to make sure that the underwear I picked out isn't gonna buttfloss its way up my butt, the fitting room greeter asks me if I want to try any bras on. No, thank you. Have I been fitted? Lady, have you taken one SINGLE look at my chest? Nothing in your damn store fits my damn boobs. Let me go try on my damn underwear in peace! So I do, and once again determine that low-rise lace hiphuggers are just not for me. I want underwear that stays in place. So I pick up a few more normal hiphuggers which are more high-cut cuz women who want to be sexy buy cheekies and thongs and shit (they did not have boyshorts. HOW CAN YOU NOT HAVE BOYSHORTS?! 2nd VS I went to that just said "oh... yeah... we don't carry those in store." wtf?). And then some more ladies wearing too much VS perfume ask me if I need any help finding something. And then I go to the cash register to hurry up and pay and get the hell out, and the cashier girl asks me what I thought of the new store. "Um... it's very... spar- glamorous..." And she giggles nervously, because now she knows how much I loathe this deadly cycle store. Then, when counting up the cash I give her, she gets it wrong and I have to correct her but she's already pressed the total button and I have to tell her how much I am owed back before she double checks to make sure. And asks me for my e-mail and when I say I don't want to give it to her says that everyone is supposed to. Really? Why? Dammit, I just wanna leave with my obviously filled-with-unmentionables bag already. But I do, and she thanks me, they all thank me. I guess the service and attention is actually quite good; I just can't get past their annoying, bubbly voices and personas. One girl, fine. A whole store of them, all acting the same way, dressing in sexy black and talking about underwear in a valley-girl accent? At least I got my underwear. And it only cost me $28.01. And now I can throw away those brown pairs with holes and rips and tears in them. And the previous VS undies I bought that were much more uncomfortable than I anticipated. Don't buy low-rise lace hiphuggers unless you wanna pull it up all day. Oh, and I hate Victoria's Secret.