The feminine-products section of every grocery store scares and confuses me. Lets get that on the table before we go in.
So my sister has been pretty sick the past few days. She's so tiny, I hate seeing her cough. It looks like she's about to rattle a part at the seams with each wheeze. And she horcks and gurgle like a champ. Never suspect so much mucus could come out of so frail-looking a creature...
But I digress.
I get in from class, check on her to make sure she's doing alright, then set to watching TV, reading, normal non-active tomfoolery whilst I'm on my day off. It were around 12-1 PM or so, that I noticed her trying to struggle into some clothes...
"What are you doing?"
"I've gotta go to the store."
"...For what? You can't stand up straight, let alone drive."
"I... I need some hygiene products."
"Youneedawhatnow?" <-----Notice that I knew exactly what she was refering too, but I went to my first defensive mechanism, ie. playing stupid.
"Stop that stupid, I really need help! I'm so sick and, blah, blah, blah..."
She goes on for a bit, and I'm trying to fend her off, and she starts crying. Sweet fancy tap-dancing Moses, she starts crying! So I call my mother:
"I'm not going to be home for another four to five hours. Just do it for the girl!"
My father just hangs up on me, and my brother's at school. All available, trustworthy people of the female persuasion are either at work, or to far away. I don't know who's running the cosmic fandango upstairs, or down, sideways, or whatever the hell, but its got one lousy damn sense of humor.
Well, it was time to man-up then. I gird myself as if trecking across the goddamn arctic. I'd damn near bitten my own lip off, I can for fuck sure buy some Tampons.
*surpress a shiver*
Don't think about it, or what it does. You're just helping your sister when she needs you. Hell, think of it as an adventure. Race against time. If you don't act quickly enough, she may bleed to death!
Goddamnit! *resolve wavers again*
But I made it out the door. And into the car. And started the car. Going pretty smooth so far. I guess Cub Foods would carry this sort of thing. Why couldn't they carry the damn things in like a Best Buy, or some shit? Yarrgh!
So in I go, with no small amount of trepidation. I don't ask for directions, I don't stop to orient myself, I just wander until I stumble upon that which I sought. Hell, I actually walked past the goddamn aisle twice, knowing full well what it was, but I wanted to thoroughly scout the place out before I made my run. Didn't want anyone to see me, then I'd have to take out my collapsable cane, and pretend I was blind again. Hate having to do that.
Anyway, I get in there and it was like rummaging through the encyclopedia stacks at your library, looking for that one volume that you know has the pictures of the naked chicks from New Guinea. I didn't ask her what specifications she needed! C'mon, that's a rookie mistake! Came to the frontlines, not only without ammunition, but without the goddamn gun!
Alright, breath, calm... Just dart back out, call home and see what she needs.
"Yeah, hey Jazz... Uh... What exactly do you need?"
"<insert complex-ass string theory equation here>. Got that?"
"Motherfu... Yeah, I think so. I'll wing it."
"No, wai- " *click*.
Alright, gonna have to Ranbo-style this shit. You ever tried to study something without appearing to be studying anything? That's what this was. I was hoping that by glancing at all of them really fast, that what I needed would sort of just leap into my arms, as if it belonged.
No such luck though. I spent like thirty minutes (5 minutes in actual time) looking for the proper thing before actually coming up with the right stuff. It was like finding some long-lost toy, or article of clothing, after having given it up for lost so long ago. I smuggled that shit under my jacket and double-timed it to the check out line.
"Hello! How are you doing?"
*Me hand lady cashier feminine products*
"Hi!"
*She looks at the package, smiles knowingly at me, then tries to scan the bar code... then tries again.. then again... then goes to the little phone as if asking for a price check...*
Woah-hoo... Don't you try that shit with me. Crinckle your old-ass fingers around that phone and I'ma price check YO ass. I'm talking grabbing her by the wig and scanning her eyeballs over the laser while screaming, "What's your goddamn expiration date, huh? HUH motherfucker?!"
Now, I didn't actually say this. I gave her that look, and she got the picture. And so she straightened out that bar code for all she was worth, and that bastard beeped. Then I added a pack of gummi bears on that bitch, cause I earned it.
"Awe... You must be pretty considerate. Let me guess, your girlfriend or wi- "
"Nu-uh lady. All the unholy hosts of hell are about to be unleashed back at my house. Now you tell me how much I owe you, I give it to you, you double-bag them suckas, and we part ways. No small talk. Now move!"
She told me the total, exchange money, bagging, then I'm out the door like I'd just robbed Fort-Fucking-Knox at knifepoint. Get in car, do 60 getting around the corner, hope the cops aren't on my tail.
I burst through the front door like Jesse Owens over the finish line at the Berlin Games, tossing the package on my sisters bed.
"Mission accomplished. Now I'm going to go cry in the shower."
"About damn time."
...*&*^*@#! By the time I got back, there should've been a goddamn saga written about my heroics! Halle Berry and Jenna Jameson should've been butt-ass naked in my bedroom holding a t-bone steak and a Medal of Goddamn-Honor! And all I get is a grumpy "About damn time." Luckily there wasn't a box of kittens handy at the time, otherwise I'd've trampled all of them bitches.
And that's how my day went, for the most part. I also had toast.
So my sister has been pretty sick the past few days. She's so tiny, I hate seeing her cough. It looks like she's about to rattle a part at the seams with each wheeze. And she horcks and gurgle like a champ. Never suspect so much mucus could come out of so frail-looking a creature...
But I digress.
I get in from class, check on her to make sure she's doing alright, then set to watching TV, reading, normal non-active tomfoolery whilst I'm on my day off. It were around 12-1 PM or so, that I noticed her trying to struggle into some clothes...
"What are you doing?"
"I've gotta go to the store."
"...For what? You can't stand up straight, let alone drive."
"I... I need some hygiene products."
"Youneedawhatnow?" <-----Notice that I knew exactly what she was refering too, but I went to my first defensive mechanism, ie. playing stupid.
"Stop that stupid, I really need help! I'm so sick and, blah, blah, blah..."
She goes on for a bit, and I'm trying to fend her off, and she starts crying. Sweet fancy tap-dancing Moses, she starts crying! So I call my mother:
"I'm not going to be home for another four to five hours. Just do it for the girl!"
My father just hangs up on me, and my brother's at school. All available, trustworthy people of the female persuasion are either at work, or to far away. I don't know who's running the cosmic fandango upstairs, or down, sideways, or whatever the hell, but its got one lousy damn sense of humor.
Well, it was time to man-up then. I gird myself as if trecking across the goddamn arctic. I'd damn near bitten my own lip off, I can for fuck sure buy some Tampons.
*surpress a shiver*
Don't think about it, or what it does. You're just helping your sister when she needs you. Hell, think of it as an adventure. Race against time. If you don't act quickly enough, she may bleed to death!
Goddamnit! *resolve wavers again*
But I made it out the door. And into the car. And started the car. Going pretty smooth so far. I guess Cub Foods would carry this sort of thing. Why couldn't they carry the damn things in like a Best Buy, or some shit? Yarrgh!
So in I go, with no small amount of trepidation. I don't ask for directions, I don't stop to orient myself, I just wander until I stumble upon that which I sought. Hell, I actually walked past the goddamn aisle twice, knowing full well what it was, but I wanted to thoroughly scout the place out before I made my run. Didn't want anyone to see me, then I'd have to take out my collapsable cane, and pretend I was blind again. Hate having to do that.
Anyway, I get in there and it was like rummaging through the encyclopedia stacks at your library, looking for that one volume that you know has the pictures of the naked chicks from New Guinea. I didn't ask her what specifications she needed! C'mon, that's a rookie mistake! Came to the frontlines, not only without ammunition, but without the goddamn gun!
Alright, breath, calm... Just dart back out, call home and see what she needs.
"Yeah, hey Jazz... Uh... What exactly do you need?"
"<insert complex-ass string theory equation here>. Got that?"
"Motherfu... Yeah, I think so. I'll wing it."
"No, wai- " *click*.
Alright, gonna have to Ranbo-style this shit. You ever tried to study something without appearing to be studying anything? That's what this was. I was hoping that by glancing at all of them really fast, that what I needed would sort of just leap into my arms, as if it belonged.
No such luck though. I spent like thirty minutes (5 minutes in actual time) looking for the proper thing before actually coming up with the right stuff. It was like finding some long-lost toy, or article of clothing, after having given it up for lost so long ago. I smuggled that shit under my jacket and double-timed it to the check out line.
"Hello! How are you doing?"
*Me hand lady cashier feminine products*
"Hi!"
*She looks at the package, smiles knowingly at me, then tries to scan the bar code... then tries again.. then again... then goes to the little phone as if asking for a price check...*
Woah-hoo... Don't you try that shit with me. Crinckle your old-ass fingers around that phone and I'ma price check YO ass. I'm talking grabbing her by the wig and scanning her eyeballs over the laser while screaming, "What's your goddamn expiration date, huh? HUH motherfucker?!"
Now, I didn't actually say this. I gave her that look, and she got the picture. And so she straightened out that bar code for all she was worth, and that bastard beeped. Then I added a pack of gummi bears on that bitch, cause I earned it.
"Awe... You must be pretty considerate. Let me guess, your girlfriend or wi- "
"Nu-uh lady. All the unholy hosts of hell are about to be unleashed back at my house. Now you tell me how much I owe you, I give it to you, you double-bag them suckas, and we part ways. No small talk. Now move!"
She told me the total, exchange money, bagging, then I'm out the door like I'd just robbed Fort-Fucking-Knox at knifepoint. Get in car, do 60 getting around the corner, hope the cops aren't on my tail.
I burst through the front door like Jesse Owens over the finish line at the Berlin Games, tossing the package on my sisters bed.
"Mission accomplished. Now I'm going to go cry in the shower."
"About damn time."
...*&*^*@#! By the time I got back, there should've been a goddamn saga written about my heroics! Halle Berry and Jenna Jameson should've been butt-ass naked in my bedroom holding a t-bone steak and a Medal of Goddamn-Honor! And all I get is a grumpy "About damn time." Luckily there wasn't a box of kittens handy at the time, otherwise I'd've trampled all of them bitches.
And that's how my day went, for the most part. I also had toast.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
here's the thing - now that i'm married, i have no fear of feminine products. they just *are.*
and whoohoo, a new friend! what brought you my way?