kum n go

I’ll just get this out of the way: I’m not having sex.

If I was, this blog would not be rated PG13.

But, I went to Gabbie’s apartment for a tearful goodbye and left with some condoms stuffed in my wallet. Her roommate bought her a 100 pack of colored contraception for Christmas and she wanted to spread the wealth. We laughed about how many colors there were and how long a box of this magnitude should last. I don’t care if she uses them all in one week as long as she’s being safe. Regardless, I left the club with two condoms: one turquoise and one baby pink.

Flash forward to my journey across four states with a snoring grandmother and too much choral music. It’s not hard to see where this story is going.

I got out of the car to get gas and opened my wallet. I reached in for my debt card but my fingers contacted two foil packets. My head snapped up, trying to located my not-so-stealthy grandma. I spotted her walking around the car to me, offering to pay for the gas. In all of my hurried fumbling to close my wallet before she came too close, one of the condoms dramatically fluttered to the ground.

I stuffed my wallet in my jacket pocket and tried to wipe the horrified look from my face. I must’ve concealed my fear quickly because my grandma just handed me her credit card and went inside to use the restroom. She didn’t look down to notice the baby pink condom sitting innocently on the pavement. As soon as she was all the way inside and the coast was clear, I picked the condom up and slid the other out of my wallet. I had too many more hours and too many more gas stops to deal with these suckers burning a hole in my wallet. I quickly threw them in the trash, trying to avoid any eye contact with any of the others at the pumps.

As we finished our stop and pulled away, I looked back at the gas station to mourn the loss of my fun condoms and I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course we had stopped at a Kum n Go.

 

 

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