Let’s talk about condoms, shall we?
I recently found myself waiting for a prescription down at the Rite Aid, and wound up standing in front of the condom rack which is strategically placed right in front of the pharmacist’s window. I amused myself by checking out newfangled safer sex options and pondering how very far we’ve come since the days when I was young and surreptitiously had to shoplift rubbers from the drugstore at the Eureka Mall.
Back then, it used to be pretty simple. There were Trojan condoms. One kind of Trojan condom. Maybe two. You picked up a box of Trojans, stuck them in your pocket while your friend distracted the store manager (because being a small town with only one or two pharmacies and your dad being a doctor, odds were good that the pharmacist totally knew your dad and would rat you out for buying rubbers), got out (hopefully) without being arrested (because that would REALLY get back to your dad), split up the loot and viola! you were both good to go for the weekend.
Now? Not so much with that.
Instead of one or two types of condom on a rack? There were, like, twenty.
There were latex condoms, non-latex condoms, condoms with lubricant, condoms with no lubricant, condoms with spermicidal lubricant. There were big condoms, little condoms (except the box didn’t actually say “little”) and condoms in between. There were condoms that said “THINNEST EVER!” and condoms that said “OMG EVEN THINNER, LIKE, YOU’RE PRACTICALLY NOT WEARING ONE!!!eleventy!11!” and frankly…
I might have been a little confused.
I might have stood in front of the condom rack for about ten minutes, scratching my head and picking up boxes and trying to discern what made each type of condom different.
Do not even get me started on the brightly colored boxes of KY sex jelly that were sitting off to the side. Sex jelly for him. Sex jelly for her. Sex jelly for both of you together which apparently makes a huge explosion and also glows in the dark. We didn’t HAVE sex jelly back in the day. No. And definitely not glow in the dark, explodes into happiness when East and West shall meet, his and hers chemical reaction sex jelly.
Think about it. Chemical. Reaction. Sex. Jelly. So you’re gonna put on your jelly and I’m gonna put on my jelly and there will be a CHEMICAL FREAKING REACTION IN MY VAGINA.
I do not think the lemurs will enjoy that. In fact, chemical reaction? We might get mutant lemurs. Or tentacles.
I don’t want to think about it.
Damn kids and their sex jelly need to get off my lawn.
So yeah. That was eye opening. And then the pharmacist called my name, I put the condoms down and went to pick up my stuff, and left the store (after totally paying, because this pharmacist doesn’t know my dad and probably my dad doesn’t care about my prescription multi-vitamins anyway), shaking my head in amazement. Drove home to my five cats. Pondered at what point in my life I lost track of what was new in the world of safer sex options.
Things were a lot simpler when we were younger.
Still… I have to confess… I AM little curious about the sex jelly…