While riding on the N train last month, I noticed those damned, lower-back cramps signaling to me that my visitor arrived three weeks too early.
I was not prepared, if you know what I mean.
It always seems that on the day where I change-up my choice of handbag, I seem to grab the one missing my emergency kit.
I arrived to Fordham (a New York University) with a half hour to kill before class. I went to the bathroom with my loose change, ready to purchase a tampon from a dispenser. To my astonishment, I discovered that no such dispenser existed.
I ran through the stairwells searching all floors for tampon dispensers. I realized that our beloved campus was not equipped with the ammo needed to combat the red scare.
I asked girls holding a bake sale in the main lobby; I asked the plastic skinnies gossiping at their lockers: no one had a tampon. So, I was forced; I had no other choice. I spent approximately $7.00 on a small box of tampons (or shall I say, miniature) located in our overpriced, campus bookstore.
The cashier was grinning! I saw the pleasure ooze from her grin as she stroked the bar code against the scanner. She knew I had no other choice!
I arrived to my safe zone: the fourth-floor bathroom. I scurried around the corner and bumped into my English professor. “See you in class,” she remarked as she headed for the stairs. I knew I’d be late for her class.
I had to pull a Joe McCarthy and put an end to the unexpected scare before its forces strengthened. I entered fifteen minutes late to class; I’m definitely on my professor’s poop-list.
Fordham, I blame you for my tardiness to English class. My period arrived three weeks too early without any sign of its advent (okay I was a little bloated, my boobs did get stiff, and I did binge on chocolate cake, but to me, that stuff is totally normal).
Do you hate women, Fordham? Do you chuckle when you see women in a panic while they shuffle around Lowenstein looking for tampons and pads?
It is a natural occurrence. It is not a filthy matter; it is not an unsanitary issue.
Scientifically, the female menstrual cycle cleanses the vagina of any odd bacterial imbalances.
Why won’t you support such a good cause, Fordham?
It just takes a few dollars out of the forty-thousand I paid in tuition to install tampon and sanitary pad dispensers in the female restrooms at Fordham.
I will be prepared in the beginning of April for my rag, but I do hope that us females have access to tampons in case of an emergency situation. Once they are installed, my next menstrual rant will be about installing chocolate cupcake dispensers in the female restrooms. Stay tuned!