Owners of bodegas of NYC: You must be fully aware of the implications of keeping your feminine products UP HIGH BEHIND THE COUNTER. You are usually always male. I do not frequent bodegas, unless it is an urgent situation in which I am parched from thirst or…ahem…fuck you, you get it.
This weird policy that makes no sense (what, are they dangerous? Are you afraid that some middle school kids are going to steal them and play pranks with them? How about how you keep wine just out in the open? You don’t think classic pranksters’ ears would perk up at that? LOOSE ALCOHOL?) only furthers any humiliation one feels in such an urgent situation.
I’m going to go in there, climb behind the counter, get a fucking step stool and steal all of your feminine products. And I’ll grab some wine on the way out, because Chardonnay makes menstruation a little bit easier. Here’s to you, and me, all of the rock bottoms that you cause on an unnecessary, sitcom third-act level.