February 01, 2008
Originally published December 18, 2003
The world certainly has changed since I was a teenager. When I wanted a condom back in the late 60s, I had to sneak into a bathroom in a bar and plug fifty cents into a machine that said, "FOR PREVENTION OF DISEASE ONLY!" to buy one. I wasn't going to pull a Summer of 42 and go ask a pharmicist for a box of Trojans. That idea was just too humiliating.
Now, I can buy any kind of condom I want in the fucking GROCERY STORE. They are right there on a stand-up display next to the anti-acid tablets and the Rogaine on aisle 18 at the Kroger's down the road from where I live. They have everything you possibly could want. They have ribbed, lubricated, extra-thick, ultra-sensitive, super-large, glow-in-the-dark and all in multiple colors.
I stopped in front of that display this week and had a crazy thought. Suppose I dumped every one of those things into my buggy and strolled up to the cash register? Would the cashier even bat an eye when she rang up my purchace? Or, would I get something of a hairy eyeball and feel the need to explain that I had a lively weekend planned?
I didn't do it, but I thought about it.
A condom display in Krogers. What is this world coming to?
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