Friday, 2 January 2009

I don't know which was worse: the first time I bought condoms and felt the clerk's disapproving eyes burning right through me, or the first time I realized the clerk doesn't even care.



I think we'd cut teenage pregnancies dramatically if we had more condom vending machines. They wouldn't even need to be located in high schools---no need to get into the politics of that--they could be in drugstores, but facing toward a corner so you could plausibly pretend like you just were buying a Kit Kat.

The absolute worst are the stores that put condoms behind glass. They might as well just put up a giant sign saying DIRTY SLUTS NOT WELCOME HERE. I'm twenty-three years old and I write a freakin' sex blog and I still can't bring myself to ask the drugstore lady "I'd like the 'Her Pleasure' ones please--no, no, the kind with the nubs, not the ribs."

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