Like every other sorority girl, I love my alcohol. Who needs a boyfriend when you have a nice, strong man (shot) named Jack (Daniels). But you know what girls hate? Buying tampons. We’re relieved we’re not pregnant, but we still have to cough up eight bucks a month for a box of cotton sticks. It’s a constant reminder that it sucks to be a girl and that we bleed Niagara Falls out of our most intimate parts once a month.
One week before my paycheck was coming in, I faced a dilemma. I was out of tampons and I didn’t feel like borrowing from my sisters because, as we’ve established, they’re annoying and expensive to buy and I didn’t want to be that bitch. To be frank, I pull this shit all the time, to the point where a GoFundMe for tampons might’ve been on the table. But to top it all off, it was a Friday night and I only had $8 in my bank account. Alcohol or tampons? My best friend, Pinot Noir, ended the debate in .02 seconds.
At certain bathrooms on my campus, you can find free cardboard tampons. I know what you’re thinking: cardboard tampons are the equivalent of platform sandals – ugly, seemingly uncomfortable, and something your mom probably suggested to you when you were in middle school trying to convince her to buy you stilettos. But Pinot was beckoning, and elevated surfaces were waiting to be danced on. So with shame and a wine buzz, I ran in there, party ho attire and all, grabbed the whole box, and never looked back.
I was eight dollars richer and two bottles of shitty wine drunker. Eight McDonald’s hash browns fuller. And you know what? I love cardboard tampons now. Sure, I could have bought the smaller box of tampons and hoped for the best and still have gotten one bottle, but why settle for one bottle when you can steal tampons and get ~two~ bottles. I actually purchase them willingly now when I’m not acting as a kleptomaniac stealing them from school. Who wouldn’t? They’re practically half the price.
It wasn’t without consequences, however. People I once called friends stopped liking my Instagram pictures. No one wanted to go to brunch with me anymore. Even standards didn’t want to deal with me. Believe me, I understand where you’re coming from. I used to look in disgust at the cardboard tampons in the grocery aisle and sneer at the thought of sticking something up my vagina that wasn’t a vibrator, dick, or plastic applicator (or if you’re unlucky like me, a penis the size of a plastic applicator). But I swear they absorb ten times more. Plus they’re way cheaper than that colorful, eco-hating, plastic shit. So go ahead and judge me, I’ll be sipping on my extra bottle of wine with the money that you bitches wasted on a plastic super tampon..
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