Buying Condoms
And a bit about my vasectomy…
I don’t buy a lot of condoms these days as I’ve had the magic operation. (And it was awesome! I went to the doctor on a Friday, he painted everything between my navel and knees iodine-purple, I got a shot, there was some snipping, and I was sent home to spend the weekend holding a bag of frozen peas on my sore spots. I’m pretty sure peas are used so that, just in case one gets out of the bag and works its way into a man’s underwear, as he digs it out he’ll be provided the opportunity of seeing just how much bigger than a pea his testicles are and he’ll think to himself, "Sure, you guys are no-longer baby producers, but look how much bigger than peas you are!" Really, this can be the only reason, especially in Ohio, that peas are used. We don’t grow a lot of peas here so, basically, we’re using an imported frozen vegetable to provide comfort to our wounds — physical, spiritual, and manliness-wise — when frozen soy beans and/or corn would be better for the local economy. Of course, both of these vegetables are larger than peas. Ice cubes from the tray are way too big.
Generally speaking, let’s try to keep in mind that introducing anything from the freezer to that region of a man’s body is going to lead to some shrinkage, so the smaller the frozen item introduced is, the better.)
Again, I don’t buy a lot of condoms. And, as I think back there are only a couple of condom-buying experiences that stick out.
I remember the first time I bought condoms (of course). I’d gone to visit a young lady at another college and I wasn’t even sure I’d need condoms … but I wanted to have them and not need them rather than need them and not have them (and as I sit here, 25 years later, without a 24-year old offspring, it seems to have been a good move.) I went to a drug store not too far from the university to make my buy. I didn’t know what to get and was afraid that when my date went to introduce me to her just-returning-from-work roommate it would be the coed who I’d made the purchase from. When I went to pay for the condoms (Trojans, unlubricated and maybe with a powder of some sort on them … they were very dry and this was the last time I bought unlubricated condoms) I nervously fumbled the money out of my pocket and spilled it across the counter as I choked on whatever I was trying to say ("double bag this, please," perhaps).
The next time that sticks out was May 1986. I know the month because I was in Columbus working 18-hour days. One night after work I was in a King Kwik (probably) and was the only patron. I still hadn’t gotten past being nervous when I’d buy condoms and figured since I was the only person in the store it was a good time. "Is this all?" asked the guy behind the counter.
"Yea. No! Wait! Let me get another box." As I retrieved the additional box I wondered how I’d sounded and felt that some more explanation was needed. "It’s not that I think I’m going to get incredibly lucky over the next couple of days … but I figure they’ll keep until I need them. "
The guy laughed and I was able to pay him without throwing bills or change all over and behind the counter.
