Good Idea, Sucky Execution 3: Stupid Tampon

I guess we should first acknowledge that all tampons are just a stupid idea. The fact that you will DIE if you leave it in too long is your first hint that tampons may not be the best solution. Then discovering that you may DIE if you use a tampon that's too big is our second clue. (But don't worry! You can make sure you're using the right size by simply evaluating how many grams you put out! Don't ask how to calculate that.) Finally, realizing that you will DIE of shame after said tampon slips out of the sleeve you've tucked it in as you're walking across the office to the bathroom, landing on the ground in front of the desks of four of your co-workers, including one boy (fortunately not Eye Candy), seals the tampon's fate as No. 3 in our series of Good Idea, Sucky Executions.

Behold the mighty tampon:

____________________________________Stupid tampon

Ironically, my whole motivation for buying this tampon was the box's boast of "Powerful leak protection that's discreet to carry." At work, "discreet to carry" is what I look for (and a non-crinkly wrapper).

As per my usual today, I stealthily slid the tampon from the side pocket of my messenger bag and slid it smoothly up my left sleeve, then also snagged a tube of chapstick from the bag so that anyone who may be keeping tabs on me would think that I had only leaned over to get that. I applied chapstick, then returned to typing for a few minutes, so that no one would connect my impending trip to the bathroom with the possibility that I had slipped anything else out of my bag.

After a short time, I nonchalantly rose from my seat and headed for the bathroom. Then -- disaster struck. I realized that one of my sleeves was down (the one with the tampon) and the other was pushed up -- a sure sign that a tampon was hidden in my other sleeve! Or a joint! Or both! I hastily grabbed the pushed up sleeve to pull it down, but as my tampon-bearing sleeve whipped around, that fucking candy apple green tampon went soaring. You see, the textured wrapper that the normal tampon sports is unknown to the slick, shiny "Compak" tampon. Having failed to incorporate into my calculations the decrease in friction resulting from the slippery wrapper, I flung myself straight into humiliation.

In a panic, I dove for the tampon with the enthusiasm of a Super Bowl offensive tackle, a move which hardly made my faux pas less noticeable. I snagged it and repaired to the bathroom, wondering if I could possible slit my wrists on the edge of the faucet and end it all in a dignified manner.

So -- a tampon so slippery one cannot keep a hold of it can hardly be described as "discreet." You fail, Tampax. You fail.

*Good Idea, Sucky Execution 3B: Directions for a first time tampon user are a good plan, but leading in with "Your first time? Take a deep breath and relax" is just creepy. Should I think of the queen?