Because I am a bad person, very few things amuse me more than making men uncomfortable when I have my period. A few moments ago, at Duane Reade, I got to do just that to a clerk who clearly has no women in his life whatsoever.
Granted, I was in line holding the following items:
Anyone might be afraid. This guy, though, turned beat red and said, “Uh, sorry, do you want to go in her line?” And pointed to the female cashier next to him.
“No, that’s OK,” I said. “I’ve been doing this for awhile. I’m fine.”
“OK,” he ran the items through quickly and then leaned forward a little and asked, in a low voice, “Do you want me to double-bag them?”
“Oh, God, yes,” I said, trying to sound full of shame. “I don’t want anyone to know.”
Which is a lie, of course. Because I want EVERYONE to know.
4 thoughts on “Oh, Clerks of Duane Reade”
Hahahaha… your post is marvelous! I once was embarrassed when I bought tampons and pads, but now I find enjoyment in the discomfort of others. Is it age? Or, is it that the “facts of life” are the “facts of life”…. If I have to deal with it, I’ll be damned if I’m not going to care who knows it… Thanks!
All catamenial products are designed by men. Don’t ask how I know this. The fact that I know the word “catamenial” is bad enough. The irony would cure menorrhagic anemia.
I have also witnessed a group of diners ask for a different table when the conversation at an adjacent table included repeated use of the phrase “synthetic menstrual fluid” and an attempt at describing in (ahem) polite terms the “solid fraction” problem in terms of absorbency data. Until the hubub by the adjacent diners, no one was beet-faced and no one skipped a beat.
–Taupey the Miscible
I still can’t understand why this makes people uncomfortable. It’s not like it’s contagious.