Stop Staring At Me

Went to the store yesterday on my way home for butter (Adam promised home made cinnamon buns) and lip balm and had the displeasure of ending up in line behind a woman who, for some reason, insisted on facing me/the back of the store, rather than standing in the direction of line motion and goal achievement. Worse, she just stood there staring at me, seemingly oblivious to my increasing discomfort. There are unspoken rules in our society, many of which involve body placement and direction, and most of the time I assume that everyone's read the same rule book that I have, but, as usual, I'm wrong.

In order to avoid conversation and eye contact - since the only thing I had to say was, “Hey, how about turning around?” - I suddenly became captivated by various items for sale in the checkout line. It’s always interesting to see the stuff they think we’re going to want at the last minute, isn’t it? The sewing kits, lip balm (but hey...I needed this), razors, tape—it’s all there for a carefully reasoned point, folks; this ain’t accidental marketing. Possibly, then, you can imagine my surprise when I curiously picked up what turned out to be a...


vaginal syringe or, more specifically, a Vaginal douche Insufflator. I should have stopped there but then read the packaging label. (I really, really wanted to take a picture with my iPhone but had to settle for what Google found instead). 

This little thing is used for a good clean out, and I sincerely wish I’d stopped right there. But I’m one of those “no paragraph unturned” readers, and besides, Mrs. Social Gaffe was still staring at me, possibly more intently now than ever, and so I persevered.

And thusly learned that another suggested use for this handy piece of rubbery plastic is that it can also be used as a nasal cleaning device. For the next several moments my mind made frantic, yet feeble, attempts at un-reading, forgetting, erasing. Those two bodily orifices should never be sharing the same piece of white plastic. Ever.

Luckily, that’s when the clerk finally said “Ma’am?” signaling my queue companion that her opportunity to make a financial transaction had arrived. This caused her to turn away from me at last, fascinating as I am, which is when I quickly replaced the item on its little metal display basket and noticed that the man in line behind me was also intently interested in my purchasing decisions. Just another reason why I love me some shopping.