I have a confession… I just put on a pad in an UBER. [The exact moment I write this post, I’m still sitting in said UBER.] Some of you are laughing manically. Some are saying, “Ewww, she straight nasty!” Others of you are asking, “Why though?”
Well, there are moments when you feel your period is about to start but not THAT day, you just go with the reassurance that as long as you have extra diapers or cotton wool in your handbag, you’re fine. That’s what happened today. This morning I felt nothing. I knew she was a couple of days away from ruining my physique for the next week, but I didn’t feel her… until around 1:25 PM while sitting in my Orthodontist’s waiting room.
Yes, I could have gone to the bathroom but Dr. Charles [that’s not his real name. I don’t want him thinking he has a crazy patient!] calls, “Tillie, you ready?”
I think, “No!” but my smile says yes.
For the next 45 minutes I had to clench my vagina so tight (she’s probably mad swole resembling Timbaland’s when he returned from musical hiatus. [click here for reference.]) to ensure nothing leaked onto my dress or his chair. My dress because we live in a world now that people will take a photo of your stained attire, rather than tell you, like a good samaritan should. And his chair because there’s this unnecessary shame that innately, or socially, comes along with women having their period. Even as I write this, I’m slightly more concerned with readers bashing me for discussing something so private. So when Dr. Charles finished connecting an attachment for my tooth, I nonchalantly did the slide-and-check (when slyly slide off your chair wiping the seat with your bottom, to clean off any leakage) before asking him of the nearest bathroom.
Now, here’s the thing with bathrooms and myself. I’m very picky. Public facilities are not my friend unless I’m highly intoxicated. When you’re in that frame of mind, crawling on bar floors searching for a phone that’s actually located in your back pocket is the norm. When you’re with-it, like I was today, they’re not my friends. Anyway, I walked into the bathroom and the scent that came flooding out was toxic. I can’t blame the culprit that was inside as they too, could have been so desperate they stayed just to finish their business and scram. Most likely it was a deed done by a former guest that had perfected the shit-and-dash (I don’t need to explain this.) leaving a stench no body should be able to emit. Mix it with the potpourri the vents spew and it’s like manure in heat; it’s tolerable only as a passerby, but lethal when stagnant.
Honestly, that first whiff hit me so hard I said, “Not today,” out loud as I turned on my feels to exit. This sudden problem escalated when I realized, I should have already been on my way to work if to beat 6th Avenue traffic. So, as the UBER Suburban pulled up, I had committed to the decision.
I won’t give you deets, but know this –
- The driver was too busy figuring out Waze he noticed nothing.
- I hope the windows were tinted.
- It took less than a 45 seconds, which is a personal world record.
- I also hope there were no cameras in the car.
- It’s much easier wearing a dress. I don’t recommend doing this if you’re wearing pants, leggings, and tights unless you have a history of changing clothes or undergarments in vehicles.