|Basically all men.|
So yes. Today we're going to talk about our periods. Or as Alissa dubbed it, the kraken.
But what we're really going to talk about? The buying of the feminine products. It's a big mystery to me, the public shame attached to buying our lady diapers. Every woman needs these things. Every darn one. Yet, I still shake with terror and embarrassment when I slip down the aisle of unmentionables, grab a box, hide it under whatever else is in my cart, and tip toe into another aisle.
James and I went to Target last night, and let's just say I was fresh out of some items. I made sure he was busy elsewhere, then I grabbed the cart and pushed it to the Depends/Kotex aisle. I stopped the cart right next to the pharmacy, took several deep breaths, gave myself a pep talk, and entered the land of blood and shame.
I don't know why I get so embarrased. I have no idea. But the second my eyes scan the shelf for what I'm looking for, my palms sweat, my heart races, and it feels like a spotlight is shining down upon me and everyone's staring at me and my crampy, bloated, greasy food craving, pms-zit face.
Once I grab what I need, I stealthily hide it under or behind something else in my basket or cart, so no one's the wiser. And then the checkout. That's the worst part of all. I slowly walk up to the cash registers and look for a woman. Any woman. Just please, a woman. I can't have a guy ring me up or I will die. Middle aged women are the best. They're nicer and they just seem to understand. I throw the goods up on the belt and tower my other purchases (usually acne medicine and some sort of chocolate and maybe some shoes) behind it, so the person behind me can't tell what I'm buying even though it's still blatantly obvious. And then I avert my eyes. I stare at the ceiling, at the wailing kid in checkout line 5, anywhere but in front of me, all the while my face is beet red and I'm sweating in weird places. Thankfully, woman cashiers seem to understand and throw it in a bag first thing.
And then I walk out of the store triumphantly, knowing I don't have to deal with the agony for another few months.
Is this just me? I have friends who think I'm straight up crazy for being embarrassed, and I also have friends who are just as humiliated as I am. Maybe it's my shy nature, maybe I just have issues. Probably both. But I think that frenzied trip to the store might be worse than my actual period.