Note: the following post is intended for an all female audience. Any man who reads this post is cautioned to do so at his own risk. ‘Nuf said.
I don’t mean to make a public announcement or anything, but it’s that time of month. And I did the last thing any woman should ever do within the first couple days of her period. I went shopping. And unlike other, more prepared women, I wasn't carrying a spare in my purse, if you know what I mean. My new BFF, who no longer has a uterus, informed me that even she carries a tampon in her purse. In retrospect I’m realizing I should have gone shopping with her.
So I was at Sam’s Club with Leah and Zack, checking out the summer workbooks for kids, when I realized a change of guard was in order. But, I thought, this is America. What retail chain wouldn’t take advantage of a woman’s misfortune and sell a tampon or two in their restrooms? No problem, right?
The ladies room was being serviced. The janitor heard my moan of frustration and called out, “You can use the family restroom.” Women who use the family restrooms need tampons too, right? So I ushered my children in to discover that the only thing being dispensed in the family restroom was diaper packs and scented changing pads.
So leaving the door to the family restroom open while my children romped and played, I wedged myself between the wall and the janitor's cart to check the walls of the women’s restroom.
“Can I help you?” the janitor asked, stepping directly into my comfort zone.
“Are there any, uhm, machines, in there?” I asked.
Machines?” he asked, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what new technology he was missing out on.
I racked my brain. Was there a nice euphemism for tampon dispenser? Besides girlie cigar and lady lolli I couldn’t think of one proper synonym for tampon, period. Pun intended.
“I need a tampon. Is there a tampon dispenser in there?”
I realized there are many things you can say to shut a man up, but that phrase, uttered to a complete stranger, is by far the most effective. He didn’t say a thing. In fact, he physically resisted the reflex to look at my crotch and see just how dire my lady dilemma was.Not that dire, buddy.
I returned to the family restroom and soon realized that my situation hadn’t been dire at all. All that fuss for nothing.
My friend insists that I “attract” these situations so I have something to write about.
Speak up, ladies. Please tell me there are others who experience menstrual emergencies while out and about. That I’m not that only female on the planet who exposes her eczema to single pediatricians, locks herself outside the house in the dead of winter (after midnight),and is accosted by Mary Kay consultants while standing in the neuter line.
Never mind. Don't answer that. I don’t want to know…