Soap

In case anyone was wondering, Ultra Palmolive Oxy Plus dishwashing liquid certainly does the job. However, it does not taste good.

Recently, I learned this the hard way. I packed some yummy chicken noodle soup to eat with my lunch at work. It was so good, I ate it to the last drop. When I was finished, I dumped some dishwashing liquid in there, so I could take it to the sink and wash it. You can imagine where this goes.

I must've gotten sidetracked at work, because a few minutes later, I looked at my bowl and got excited about what looked like tiny droplets of leftover soup. I dipped my spoon in and gobbled it up. All I can say is, thank God I didn't swallow. I can't even describe what lingered on my tongue as I raced to the ladies' room to rinse it out. It tasted like a combination of Pine Sol mixed with coal mixed with Sour Patch Kids candy mixed with Nyquil. It's safe to say that I won't be returning for seconds.

My own dishwashing taste test led me to a memory, this one going back to high school. I had this media arts class and we met in the library. I think the goal of the class was to produce and edit video, but most of the time, all we did was sit back and wait for an easy A. This was a small class, with a combo of football players, cheerleaders, druggies, geeks, student gov folks and losers. I was none of the above. I guess I probably fell into the loser category back then, but I didn't know it.

Anywho, there was this kid in my class named Aaron. He was in special ed classes and the teachers said he was mentally slow. Of course, he was constantly teased about that. The worse part was that he didn't seem to know he was being teased. He thought he was friends with these two football players in our class -- guys that pushed him in the hallways and constantly played tricks on him.

Once, because class was so dull, Aaron fell asleep. With his mouth open. One of the football players found a bottle of dishwashing liquid and poured some into his mouth. He woke up with this shocked look on his face because there was something terrible in his mouth and he didn't know why. Everyone laughed -- including me. I felt bad for him, but I didn't think there was anything I could do so I joined in the crowd.

Aaron told the teacher and she investigated. Come to find out, the genius pranksters poured the dishwashing liquid in his mouth all in front of a videocamera that recorded their every move. They were suspended, the local paper and TV news stations did stories about it. I think Aaron was pulled out of that class or something, but I can't remember.

Well, now I've become a form of Aaron all on my own. Except for me, no one saw me feed myself the dishwashing liquid, there was no camera in sight and no laughter, other than my own, a few days later. I guess the one thing I learned from all this is that I should watch where I toss my laughter. Because in the end, we all eat the soap.

(Photo from http://www.totalmotorcycle.com/pics/PalmoliveOriginal.jpg)

Bashful

Sorry that I've been so neglectful to the blog, but I've been feeling a bit lazy in the new year. I'd start posts and then save them for later. What a way to start 2007, eh? Anywho, now I'm back in business.

What I want to talk about today is buying feminine products. Although I'm a GAW (Grown-A** Woman), I have trouble buying these products when I have to deal with a male cashier. I know I'm not the first person to come up to them with such a purpose, but the whole experience makes me feel about five inches tall. It's like I can almost hear them saying, "Having a heavy day, huh?" or "Did you want Motrin with that?" Of course, they never say that, but I've had something similar happen in past experiences.

A few years ago, I used to go to a medical center in a nearby city to pick up my birth control pills. The experience was always the same. There was an older Italian man at the front whose face looked like he was either about to kill someone or fall asleep. I could never tell which one, maybe both. He was always a bit grumpy toward me until he realized I was buying the pills. Then his face would brighten and he'd say, "So how are you?" or "What's going on?" Now I know good and well that I couldn't be the only woman buying pills from him, but he acted like I was. I got so tired of the way his eyebrows used to dance when I gave him my money that I started going somewhere else.

One thing I have yet to buy and I don't think I ever will is condoms. My other experiences have been embarrassing enough that I just avoid this area altogether. Back when I was with The Ex, I waited in the car while he went into this store to buy some. The male cashier who was ringing him up, kept turning around and looking into the car right at me. I thought I was imagining things until The Ex got into the car and started laughing. Apparently, the cashier gave him a thumbs up sign and told him to "tear it up". Because this was my hometown, I had to go to this store several times. Whenever I got said cashier, he'd give me the same look that the Italian man did and make slight conversation, even if I was buying something as simple as toilet paper. Dealing with him was enough to make this brown girl turn red.

This week, I went to my 24-hour pharmacy to buy some feminine products. As soon as I got in the door, I realized that there were only male cashiers available. Bummer. I tried not to be ashamed and loaded up on pads and feminine wash. Then I also bought a pack of gum, just to throw things off a bit.

The man barely made eye contact as he rung me up. One of his male coworkers came up behind me and said something like "getting kind of chunky." Now, being that I will be 30 in a few weeks and have been dealing with all kinds of insecurities, particularly weight, I whipped my head around and asked him what he was talking about. He held up a section of the newspaper where it showed a picture of Cal Ripken Jr. being inducted into the baseball hall of fame. "I said Cal's getting kind of Chunky." Oh. Thank goodness.