The Nuances of Being Girl

Toward the end of my shift I overheard my coworker, River, ask another staff member for a hair tie.  It was at that moment that the cartoon light bulb you would associate with an idea illuminated over my head.  “I should make a ‘girl kit’.”  I voiced out loud to River.  Met with a quizzical look from her, I elaborated: “Every job I’ve ever had, the staff usually has a majority of women.  They often forget things like hair ties or even more important: tampons”

“Oh.”  She acknowledged.  “They had something like that in our first aid kit at my old store.”

I began to formulate a list of common little things a woman might need in a pinch, yet was often unavailable.  Around that moment, another coworker of mine, Harley, walked into the store.  I approached her with my idea and asked for her input.

“Hair ties for sure.”  She offered.  “Bobby pins too.”

“Dual purposes.”  I added.  “In case one would ever have to pick a lock.”

“Right!?”  She credited my suggestion.  She continued to list other essentials.  “Tampons of course.  Plastic!  Not cardboard!”

“What do you mean?”  I asked.

“They hurt when you put them in.”  She said.

“You mean the applicator?” I inquired, but without waiting for an answer, my brain had already connected the dots of logic.

“Cardboard is absorbent!”  I announced, making a slow, explosive gesture with my hands coming from my head.  “That would cause painful friction.  Why on Earth would they make something like that!?  The sadists.  I know it’s probably really cheap to produce, but come on!”

Harley nodded approvingly.

“What about medication for the kit?”  I asked.  “Like Midol?”

“No, try Pamprin.” Harley endorsed.

“Why Pamprin?”
“Because if you take three of them it’s like taking a Vicodin.”

Just then another coworker of mine, LuLu, arrived on the scene.  I informed LuLu of the idea I had just proposed to River and Harey.

“So far on the list I have: Hair ties, bobby pins, tampons... plastic, not cardboard, as I’ve just learned-”

“Yes!”  She shot.  “Don’t ever get cardboard.  They hurt like a bitch!”

I chuckled.  “Okay, now that I have a consensus, I’m deciding on medication-”

“Get Pamprin.”  She recommended.

“Why Pamprin?”

“Because when you take three of them it’s like taking a Vicodin.”

As I was leaving to head home, two other coworkers, males this time, called for my attention.

“Hey Len, do you have a lighter on you?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”  I stated.  “But you know, I get asked enough to the point where I should just carry one.”

“Oh.”  He said.  “I just figured you would have one since you carried a first aid kit in your bag that one time, and you seem like the type of person that would have a lighter on them in case they got lost in the forest or some shit…”