A few weeks ago I posted a poll for my Instagram followers on topics they would want to read about. On of the responses was “period stories.” I’m definitely not questioning this input. This is a normal answer that any human would give. I have to give them what they want. There is one story that haunts me sometimes, but as you may have already known, it is not one of my top most embarrassing moments. I mean it was gross for sure, but I don’t lose any sleep over it. You’re probably wondering what it was. I have one word for you: Superbad.
For my freshman year of college, I went to NC State to get out there and try something new. I didn’t intend on going there just for freshman year but it turned out that way. Many reasons were the drivers to me moving back home, which actually is a great blog post idea… Brain, remember to do a post about why I transferred home from NC State. This specific incident didn’t have anything to do with it, so I digress. Those that know me know I am NOT into frat guys and have very low tolerance for sorority girls. However, when you are a freshman you will do anything to get out of your dorm and when you are too young to buy alcohol or go to bars, you really don’t have a lot of options. There was this one fraternity house where my friends and I would go a lot – it belonged to Theta Chi. The frat house was an old motel that they renovated into the ultimate bachelor castle and had pretty bang-a-rang ragers. The bathrooms, however, were worse than that of a port-a-potty at a music festival. Definitely not equipped with toilet paper or soap. Therefore, any girl that came to the parties who was on their period had to suffer with the consequences of wearing an hours-old tampon. You were better off using Mother Nature’s toilet and toilet paper. But this was a huge group of guys living on their own for the first time, in a gross-ass old motel, so I don’t deduct any points from the guys for this situation. After all, they are a lesser species – unless we have a draft for the next World War. Then they are, indeed, the stronger species.
Anyway, there was a guy in Theta Chi, named Zach – he was a junior at the time and very good looking. After our make out session during my first visit, I discovered that he had lived in Delaware for a few years growing up. We bonded over that and every time I went to his parties, we were an item for the night. My third time or so there, I remember I was wearing a black miniskirt (the black part matters) because I was young, skinny and hot. I also was wearing a fully loaded tampon. However, I did not know this was a fully loaded tampon until later that night. Zach, poor Zach, was wearing khaki shorts and a polo (the epitome of what I am NOT attracted to). I was sitting on his lap for awhile until my friends pulled me away to dance. Later that night, I saw it; The Superbad stain on his right leg. It was about the size of a golf ball. I was pissed because I thought some other girl had been sitting on his lap and leaked on him (I did see him dancing with another girl a few times). He was actually a gentleman and didn’t care about the stain at all, but he was sure it was from me. I was so offended – I could NEVER be responsible for something so icky. Thanks to my black skirt, I didn’t see a stain on myself and couldn’t check my underwear because the line for the pee-pit was too long. And technically I may not have even had a stain on the skirt because my bare-ass was probably what was sitting on him. Every time he blamed me, I fought right back. Being drunk, I got over it quickly and *allowed* him to walk me back to my dorm. He came inside (my dorm, you nasty people) and hung out for awhile. We were making out on the ground under the bright, florescent, overhead mood lighting and he took my shirt and skirt off. All we did was make-out, Mom, I swear. It was getting late, or early, I’m not sure but I wanted to go to bed. When he left, I changed into my jammies and – yep, it was me. Like, how could I have not known? It was a lot. Like, a lot a lot. There was no washing that out either. It was absolutely, 100%, without a doubt me. I never admitted it to him but he knew. I wasn’t as embarrassed for myself as I was for him. I mean, its my blood. But he had to exist through that party with some girls vagina blood on his leg. He must have really been into me though to come all the way back to my place anyway. Also, whoever let me wear a skirt while I was on my period is a horrible friend. You should know when and if I am bleeding and tell me a skirt isn’t a good idea. Shame on you.
That was not the last time I saw Zach, but it was the last time I wore a skirt. I also started bringing toilet paper in my pocket to such parties, wearing a fresh tampon when I went out and switched birth control pills because there is no reason I should have bled that heavily. So, there you have it. End of story. PERIOD.
xoxo, stay spicy.
The Spiceful Life 