Wrap it Up, I'll Take 'Em Home With Me
I am a child of the 80's. I had the waterfall hair, the parachute pants, the Jessica McClintock prom dress. My music was largely Duran Duran, Madonna and Culture Club. I drove a red-orange Dodge Omni 024 with a sunroof although my dad will swear on a stack of bibles that it was a Charger. Nancy Reagan was pitching "Just Say No" rhetoric while Ol' Ronnie was involved in much more nefarious deeds than weed and club drugs.
Safe sex was a big deal. AIDS and HIV were our teen aged boogeymen. Suddenly, getting pregnant wasn't the worst case scenario of unwrapped sex- dying was. There was much talk of how to protect oneself against this horrible disease. But the real rub was that nobody actually HAD condoms. Sure, we were supposed to keep them on our person at all times, but nobody every did. They were still hidden behind the counter at the drugstore and we resorted to the dark, dismal free clinic located in a creepy basement to get a very limited supply.
Even if someone got their hands on a rubber (as we called them), there was epic embarrassment in trying to bring up the topic with sexual partners. Most of the time, the latex sat in the glove compartment, the purse or the wallet out of sheer discomfort and nervousness.
Last weekend, a friend was looking for some action. Hey, a consenting adult with no significant and committed partnership is entitled to get some nookie if she/he can find a willing party. Said willing party was located and this exchange occurred between the layer and the layee:
"Do you have condoms?" Yes. Yeah. I think so. Hm, nope.
"Well we have to get some." Yeah. But can you cash a check for me? I need cash to buy them at a gas station or something.
"I have six dollars. Is that enough?" Should be.
"Ok. You can go get them and I'll wait here." Well, I don't have a car. Can you give me a ride to get condoms?
"Yes. Let's go."
And they actually went! And bought gas station condoms! And did it! And by "it" I mean they had sex with gas station condoms purchased with their last collective six dollars after a rubber-run!
I supposed I was sufficiently embarrassed enough for all parties. But let's chalk one up for safety! Yay!!
Safe sex was a big deal. AIDS and HIV were our teen aged boogeymen. Suddenly, getting pregnant wasn't the worst case scenario of unwrapped sex- dying was. There was much talk of how to protect oneself against this horrible disease. But the real rub was that nobody actually HAD condoms. Sure, we were supposed to keep them on our person at all times, but nobody every did. They were still hidden behind the counter at the drugstore and we resorted to the dark, dismal free clinic located in a creepy basement to get a very limited supply.
Even if someone got their hands on a rubber (as we called them), there was epic embarrassment in trying to bring up the topic with sexual partners. Most of the time, the latex sat in the glove compartment, the purse or the wallet out of sheer discomfort and nervousness.
Last weekend, a friend was looking for some action. Hey, a consenting adult with no significant and committed partnership is entitled to get some nookie if she/he can find a willing party. Said willing party was located and this exchange occurred between the layer and the layee:
"Do you have condoms?" Yes. Yeah. I think so. Hm, nope.
"Well we have to get some." Yeah. But can you cash a check for me? I need cash to buy them at a gas station or something.
"I have six dollars. Is that enough?" Should be.
"Ok. You can go get them and I'll wait here." Well, I don't have a car. Can you give me a ride to get condoms?
"Yes. Let's go."
And they actually went! And bought gas station condoms! And did it! And by "it" I mean they had sex with gas station condoms purchased with their last collective six dollars after a rubber-run!
I supposed I was sufficiently embarrassed enough for all parties. But let's chalk one up for safety! Yay!!
posted by SJM at 7:05 PM
