Condoms, and the Checkout Line of Shame.

The fictional tale of the teenager in need of a goddamned condom d****t.

Do you remember what it was like that first time you fell in love? I do. I remember the love. But I remember the lust in much clearer detail.

I was seventeen, and I had been seeing this girl, Linda. Lets call her Linda. I had been seeing Linda for a few months, and we were ready to f**k. It's not like we knew how, but you know how kids are. They know everything, and they're ready to take on the world as it comes. That Was Me. But first, I needed some protection.

One day during lunch, I headed out of my small school, and down the street to the local grocer, Win-co. I walked in through the sliding doors, and ignored my surroundings; I was on a mission, and my mind was focused. I turned down the personal hygiene isle, passing the tampons and the shampoo and stopped at the end, examining the shelf to my right. There they were, at eye level.

"S**t," I whispered to myself, "I only have ten bucks!" As I studied the array of condoms, latex lubricated and ribbed, I felt a sudden rush of anxiety. It felt as though I had just swallowed a few yards of steel chain, as my stomach sunk. Most of the boxes were out of my price range, but that didn't make this any easier. Durex and Trojan were ruled out as both were around $12.95 a box. "F**k. Those were my first choices" I mutter in irritation, just a little too loud. The longer I stand there, the more frustrated and anxious I become. I look to the prices, and grab the first box I see under eight dollars. I quickly examine its pink packaging, and walk to the front of the store.

I wasn't expecting a line at 12:30 on a Tuesday. I chose the shortest one. There was a man in his thirties with a cart full of groceries at the front of the line, and as he was placing them on the counter I noticed the customer between us. She was an innocent looking elderly woman who had likely decided to take her Oldsmobile to the store to get some flour so she could bake cookies for her grandchildren.

The cashier was taking forever... She had to call the manager over to approve a check or something, and as the woman and I were waiting, she eyed me. She looked at what I had in my hand; she looked at the single pink package wrapped tightly in my fingers. She scowled at me, furrowed her brow, and in an exclamation of accusatory zeal, she exclaimed "Hey!" As I looked up with a confused expression, she asked me in a gentler voice, "Is that all you're going to get?" She smiled as the shock and fear chilled my blood.

"Um, yes?" I mumbled, as I slowly recoiled. 

"In that case, you ought to go before me. You look like you're in a hurry."

My shame changed quickly to bewilderment, and I took her place in line.

Reviews

[Marie]

The old lady sounds just like me...and that's exactly what I would have done.

[Liz]

You lying sack of s**t. This doesn't suck at all. I actually really like it in a weird kind of way. It's honest. Or whatever. You better finish it!

[Rtrt]

Really

[Liz]

I'm sorry what

[Lance Ruscoe]

hmm?

[Liz]

D: what is happening

[Rtrt]

Everyone has their own voice

[Liz]

Yes, of course

[Lance Ruscoe]

what does this mean?

[Liz]

I don't know man, I don't know.

[Rtrt]

I enjoy this banter more

[Lance Ruscoe]

More than what? this vagueness is confusing me so much...