- Entertainment and Media
My First Condom
What do you do with it?
Is anyone's first condom actually used for it's intended purpose or am I the only one that can think of 101 (other) ways to use one? Hmmm, that may be another hub! First, I want to tell you a story of my first condom. No juicy details, just entertaining fun.
When I was about 16, a friend of mine had a very valuable commodity- condoms. First ones I had ever seen in person. I was excited and giggling profusely as if I'd discovered gold with naked men etched in it. I always thought of a condom as a toy- sorta. Of course I knew it's purpose, but I couldn't help to think of it as a forbidden toy I was deprived of in my childhood. You have to wait a certain amount of time before driving a car or wearing lipstick. It's a rite of passage, a combnation of reponsibility and woo-hoo fun. My rite of passage, condoms, were now slipping around in my hands while I wondered the obvious. What do we do with them?
My friend, a guy named Jon, and more specifically my partner in crime at high school, was the class clown. He was not my boyfriend, but I always had a weak spot for the funny guys. I did, however, have a boyfriend at the time who was doing time after school in detention. So here I am with my buddy, condoms in hand, and a look getting dumber by the minute on our faces.
Condoms are for fun right? Why else would they make them different colors, shapes, sizes, and textures? So that's what we used them for; F-U-N. Blowing them up was too obvious, but filling them with water to make durable water balloons, and taking them to the local carnival would be more amusing than watcing after school specials on TV. We could throw them at our friends there and have a good time.
Even though I thought I was old enough to earn the right to use condoms, I knew my mom would be a non-supporter- to say the least so I felt it was absolutely necessary to cover our tracks. My mom would have not only one cow, but the whole damn farm if she knew I was anywhere near a condom. My buddy and I gathered up condoms and wrappers and stuffed them in our pockets, planning evil genius ways to dispense of them. As teenagers we were completely exempt from any obligations concerning morale.
Our plan was hatched and going perfectly. My mom wouldn't be home for another hour and she was picking up my boyfriend from school after his detention. They both knew Jon and I would be at the town carnival so no big deal. Jon was harmless...in theory.
Two goofy kids walking down the street with a few water balloon condoms in hand- playing, tossing them to each other and at various friends we saw on the way. There was so much action during the carnival time, we didn't seem out of place, and certainly no odder than the guy on the side of the street wearing fashionably ill spandex pants and dancing to M.C Hammer tunes on his boom box.
Whoops! I dropped one of the condoms, I mean water balloons, on the sidewalk where it burst open and broke. Hey, those suckers are slippery, anyway, I guess that one was a dud. It just proves you can have fun with condoms, but not too much fun.
Never leave home without it
Meanwhile, at about 5pm, my mom arrives home with my boyfriend and the first one, whoever that was, to go in the bathroom, found a condom in the sink. The storm was brewing unbeknownst to me, and I was still having a blast at the carnival. We thought we had been tediously careful about collecting all the wrappers and any "evidence" before we left, however, we forgot the biggest clue- a wrapper. It was like an elephant sitting in the middle of that bathroom sink sticking it's toungue out at my mom and boyfriend- not good!
Yes folks, we left home without a major piece of evidence. Lesson learned- when it comes to teenagers, two heads are not better than one. In fact, it substantially lowers their already non-existent reasoning skills. The hunt was on... Jon being target number one on my boyfriend's 'should-have-kicked-his-ass-when-I-had-the-chance' list.
The trouble with condoms
My mom was one determined, overprotective, single mom on a mission. Unlucky for me, she was also very sociable and knew a lot of people so she was heavy on the phone calling everyone she knew, everyone I knew, and I'm pretty sure the President of the United States got a call too.
She gathered a search party and headed to the carnival. Amidst having inappropriate condom fun, I spotted her car out of the corner of my eye, and watched as she asked the spandex pants man on the street if he had seen us. Oh my God! I ducked, but not before I noticed him pointing in our direction. Another lesson- don't underestimate men in spandex. It cuts off circulation but improves memory skills somehow.
About two minutes later my mom found us, and simultaneously we found ourselves trying to explain the condom fiasco. My lovely, persistent mother wanted "proof" we were using the condoms as water balloons so I led her to the spot on the sidewalk where a condom had burst and a pool of water surrounded it. I looked up to see odd spandex man waving. Not the way I envisioned my first experience with condoms.
Like most teens, life would not be complete without an embarrassing moment that echoed through the halls of high school. Me, the girl who broke a pack's worth of condoms in less than an hour, and Jon, the boy who was alone with a girl and condoms, but didn't use them for sex.
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