I swear on my mother’s grave, if one more Barbie hands me another sandwich bag full of tampons, I’m gonna rip her arms off and beat her with them.
Please don’t misunderstand me, I do appreciate their generosity. Feminine hygiene products are a costly expense for someone living in the tunnel. They’re necessary and they’re valued, and they’re available for free in like thirty places around town. What the hell, you know? I mean, I’m still going to take them. I don’t want to seem unappreciative. What’s the word I’m looking for? I can’t think of it.
They’re trying to create a bond. It’s a sisterhood. No, they’re not creating the bond. They’re more like, reinforcing it. Because the bond is already there, right? We’re women. We understand each other, in ways no man can, and as sad as it is, tampons are a symbol of that understanding. Really, I do appreciate the reminder of the bond, and her selfless effort to reinforce it, so I’ll have those things in mind, even as I rip her arms out and beat her with them.
No, seriously, bring the damn tampons and pads and shit, but if you really want to help a girl out, please, please, please, bring some socks and wash rags, aloe and lotion, even nail polish. That’s the kind of stuff that makes a girl feel like a girl again. The girl part of us that requires a plug in it never needs a reminder. It’s the other stuff, the non-essential aesthtics, the soft skin and sparkly nails, that really appreciate the ability to hit the spa every now and again. And trust me, a bag of half-used bottles of nail polish and perfume looks a lot like a spa day to a girl who craps in a bucket three times a week.
So keep it coming, ladies. We rely on your generosity when it comes to non-essential feminine survival gear. Let’s keep it real. It’s important that your home town has the cutest, trendiest, and best-prepped homeless chicks in modern history.
Ungrateful! That’s the word I was looking for. I don’t want to seem ungrateful.
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