08 January 2007

A bad day.... (warning, very descriptive of feminine issues)

While I do so wish that I had the time to write a wonderful blog, I have so many ideas, but am in desperate need of sleep. So I'm going to blatantly and unabashedly steal this posting from an email that my friend sent to me, which was written by HER friend. So, thank you, friend-of-friend, for providing some interesting reading. I got a huge chuckle out of this...

(Warning: The below is very descriptive of feminine hygiene issues, so if you're squeamish on those types of things, you'd probably be best served by going and watching something on your TiVo right about now...)

...so I'm driving, right? from the small town in texas where I live to el paso is about 6 and 1/2 hours. I wake up the morning I'm going to leave and I'm feeling good. I don't shower, because, why? I put my stuff in the car and leave. I stop for gas, still feeling fine. feeling actually pretty optimistic.

as I start to enter el paso, my optimism fades. I have started my period. why? who can say? I wasn't supposed to be starting my period, and yet it was undeniable. so I see an exit with a walmart and veer off because I really have no choice. I mean I do, but that's so gross. so I go into walmart thinking okay, problem solved.

problem not exactly solved.

the feminine hygiene products are nowhere to be found. I mean, I look everywhere. near the make-up, near the shampoo, near the tissues/toothpaste/razor blades, even back in the back near the baby stuff (I don't know what my logic was there, it just seemed like a good idea.) so there I am leaving a trail of blood through walmart and I know I have to do something.

so I go to the pharmacy and I say, 'excuse me? I'm looking for tampons. do you have any?' kind of like the grey poupon commercial, but kind of not, if you see what I mean. do you know where they are? what he told me? 'they are in aisle 12, next to the incontinence products.' next to the incontinence products? I'm sorry, I didn't know that the lining of my uterus shedding and expelling itself from my body was comparable to accidentally loosing bladder control and peeing when I laugh. it isn't like if I do some sort of exercise that I can work on holding it in. if I could, would I? sure. sure I would. it would make it really convenient if that was the case. unfortunately, it is not something that I or anyone I have talked to has figured out yet.

so you would think that it ends here. I find the tampons, pay for them, end of story. not so. so I am by the tampons and think, well, while I'm here I might as well buy pads, too. seriously, if I am going to be sitting in my car for another 13 hours, let's not take any chances. let's be overly prepared. while I'm at it, let's go ahead and buy midol. I've only used it once before, but it made me feel pretty good.

the midol is nowhere near the aisle with the pads and tampons (and adult diapers.) that would be too easy. apparently the sadistic bastards that design walmarts marketing scheme also have a sense of humor. they want to lead you on a form of a treasure hunt, with the treasure being, suprise! if you find it you can return to feeling like a normal person. if not, you'll probably bleed to death and be so pissed about it you'll shoot others and take them down with you.

I go back to the pharmacy, pads and tampons in my arms on display and begin to scour the pain relievers. bayer, tylenol, advil, etc. again, my search appears to be in vain. I go around to the other side, slamming directly into and tripping an elderly gentleman in the process, who proceeds to look at me and then down to my merchandise and before I can say 'I'm sorry' has literally taken off in a manner that can only be described as a hasty scurry.

after about 5 mintues of no success, arms full of products I go back to the counter and say 'midol?' 'look on the bottom shelves near the sides, it should be there.' I return and so it is. there, hidden at the bottom on the extreme left of the last shelf, is the midol. there is also a box of pamprin. I hate the name, but if it might work, hey, I'm willing to at least read the box. the box, like midols box, says it relieves pain,cramping, tension headache, bloating and here's the kicker, the difference from midols box and the reason I will never buy pamprin (aside from the ridiculous name): irritability.

irritability? I fucking bet that if I didn't have to consult an atlas, an oracle and burn two living sacrifices to FIND the goddam products, I wouldn't be so freakin' irritable.

I grab the midol and go to check out. self check out is not an option. it's el paso, texas. it's a monday. why would there be something as quick, easy and convenient as a self checkout? I go to the ten items or less line. begin to move through fairly quickly. place my products on the counter. ready to pay, exchange pleasantries with the poor young male kid who is blushing and stammering as he scans my multitude of feminine purchases, my hard won and fought for prizes.

I'm not worried about it, I smile and bite my lip, glance at him and make my eyes sparkle when our eyes catch, tilt my head innocently to the side, things that would probably be more flirtatiously effective and fetching if it didn't appear that I was losing enough blood to form a goat or to at least give another person a full transfusion.

I do kind of feel for him. I do have a surplus, he is young, he probably hasn't seen a vagina, but hey let one of his internal organs reject its interior and have the residue leave his body, and then we'll talk. until then, please check-out kid, please, don't ask me or any other female to discuss the nature of the products with you.

'do they really work?' yes. yes they do. I'm happy with their levels of performance. happy enough to pick out and stand by specific brands. however, I am provoked to wonder why you want to know. for what purpose? will you be sampling one or all of these products? and please don't misunderstand, a healthy curiosity is great, but you can look me in the eye when you ask, it's okay. I've been buying these things for years. probably someday YOU will even be asked to buy them. and hopefully, if you haven't turned into some machismo asshole, you will gladly crawl out of bed, kiss your girlfriend and drive to the store.

until then, don't worry. you don't have to talk about what I am buying. you can go the the old stand bys, the weather, the nature of my day, or even your day, I am usually interested to know. either way, it was nice to meet you. you seem like a nice guy, walmart kid. and I don't even mind that you watched me all the way to the bathroom. if I remember correctly I glanced at you and winked when I went in smiled and waved at you as I came out and left the store. thanks for all your help. sincere thanks to you check out kid and pharmacy guy, you were both really sensitive and helpful and if not for you I would probably still be wandering up and down the aisles.

a less sincere, but still special thanks to the masterminds of the walmart set-up.

and last, thank you el paso, tx. you really made my day manageable.

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