A Fifty Dollar Box of Condoms

 
 

Have you ever been a witness to, or perhaps you yourself have participated in, that peculiar sort of shopping excursion at the local drugstore where you, or someone else, was in desperate need of a box of condoms, but the store had just a few too many shoppers to comfortably and confidently, pick up a single box of “Her Pleasure” Trojans, and place them on the counter for checkout? When you’re behind someone whose awkwardly fidgeting and death-gripping their items at the checkout line, naturally, you sneak a peek at what exactly was the cause for their sudden detour to the drugstore. Because most people, by nature, are nosy, annoying rubberneckers, we like to take careful precautions when buying condoms, so that we don’t leave the drugstore with two smoking holes burnt into the back of our heads from the intense judgmental stares by the intrusive customers behind us in the checkout line. 

 

Like all lustful, red-blooded humans carrying the raw animalistic instincts that drive each of us to have sex, there are certain instances, dreadful but necessary, that require us to march our horny little hineys into a drugstore to replace the empty box of condoms collecting dust in our nightstand drawer. Pulling up to the drugstore, you may scan the premises neurotically to make sure you don’t recognize any of the cars in the parking lot. You may even sink so deep into paranoia that you strategically plan your outing early in the morning or very late at night, so that the chances of running into anyone you know are far less likely. For those lucky folk who live in obnoxiously small towns, making it nearly impossible to acquire even a fraction of privacy, taking a drive outside of the city limits is a length that some have to go to in order to buy condoms. 

 

To avoid the penetrating stares of curiosity and harsh judgment from the cashier and other customers, grabbing a few (or ten) extra items to help disguise your primary purchase, always helps deter intrusive stares from fellow shoppers (or it may just help you feel not as awkward and sketchy if you plop down seven or eight items, versus one, a single box of ultra ribbed “Ecstasy” condoms). Picking up additional items such as toothpaste, gum, deodorant, college-ruled notebook paper, 2% milk, a birthday card, and cough medicine, give the appearance that you came to the store to pick up a variety of vital items that you just could not put off buying until your next round of grocery shopping. 

 

While making a quick round of the drugstore to gather your decoy “necessities”, sneaking a peak down every aisle to assure there aren’t any familiar faces in sight is absolutely necessary before physically picking up the box of condoms. Since you don’t see anyone you recognize, probably because it’s nearly one o’clock in the morning, (or because you drove an extra 20 minutes to the drugstore on the opposite side of town that’s located smack dab in between an elementary school and an assisted living center for seniors) you head towards magical aisle number six; where protection and pleasure awaits you.

 

Fan-freaking-tastic … some trashy, tatted-up Tila Tequila imposter (who looks like she has her nipples pierced judging by the weird outline showing through her way-too-tight belly shirt suffocating her fake triple D’s) is standing in the exact aisle that you need to be in. Ugh, fine, whatever. You take a “casual” lap around the drugstore (again) and hopefully in a few minutes, that slut with the tattooed eyebrows will have moved on to the pharmacy counter to pick up the Rx for her gonorrhea. While killing time until you can privately peruse the “Family Planning” aisle, you throw yet another three or four more items into your already loaded basket. 

 

Some floss, a fitness magazine, masking tape, a box of Pop-tarts, and can of bug spray are added to your basket, bringing your purchases of distraction to a total of twelve! (NOT including your primary item and reason for this outing…CONDOMS.) Now realizing its almost 2 A.M. and your significant other (or fuck buddy) is probably losing the heat of the moment while anxiously awaiting your return, you grab a box of condoms, shove the Poptarts and cough medicine onto a random shelf, and march up to the register. Like almost every condom-buying excursion, your total at the register ends up being nearly fifty bucks…damn it. All this stupid shit (you think silently to yourself), and all I wanted was a box of condoms.

 

 

Don’t feel ashamed or embarrassed if this sounds like you; you’re not alone in the world of awkward drugstore shopping experiences. These kinds of sketchy, anxiety-prone, impulse buying situations can also take place when trying to purchase lube, pregnancy tests, hemorrhoid ointment, laxatives,  screening kits for yeast infections, fungal and rash creams, prescription strength deodorant etc. (Basically, any item causing another person to find you weird, disgusting, or perverted if they saw you buying it.)

 

 
 
 
 

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WORD  -  of  -  THE WEEK

WORD

Whoronation

Definition

The first time a woman is called a derogatory name by a male because she would not put out.

Sentence

“Lindsey received her whoronation when Seth called her a skank for not giving him head in the bar bathroom.”