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Shame (standard:humor, 0 words)
Author: AJAdded: May 31 2001Views/Reads: 4081/1Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A high school couple goes to make their first condom purchase...hilarity ensues

“You’re coming in with me, right?” Jesse asked.  His face took on that
pleading expression that he gets when he needs me to sneak him into my 
house for a weekend.  He slammed the trunk of his Jeep, and then joined 
me in the front, taking a moment to locate his sunglasses. 

“Sure, I guess,” I said, snapping a barrette onto an unruly lock of my
hair.  “I don’t see what the big deal is, though.  I mean, people buy 
condoms every day.” 

Jesse’s nostrils flared slightly, like they do when I make him feel less
than manly.  I thought it might be prudent to change the subject, so I 

“Did you start the English assignment?  Mr. Clark is going senile if he
thinks we can write a term paper on two weeks notice.” 

Jesse fidgeted with his new gold earring, rotating the post in his
mildly inflamed earlobe.  So he was going to be sulky.  I rifled 
through his cassette collection, which was crammed into the glove 
compartment, along with cigarettes, a lighter shaped like a woman’s 
legs, and some gum.  I borrowed a cigarette and started to light it. 

“At least wait until we’re off school campus,” Jesse bitched.  “I don’t
want to get in trouble.” 

“Funny that you should worry about getting in trouble over smoking, when
we don’t even have a pass to leave grounds in the first place!” I 
retorted, but stowed the unlit cigarette behind my ear.  I found an old 
mix tape in the glove compartment, minus a cover, but the label said 
“SCHOOL MAKES ME PUKE.”  Appropriate, I thought, and popped it into the 
tape deck.  “Good Feelings” by Violent Femmes came on loud.  I wasn’t 
in the mood to hear the singer’s whiny voice over Jesse’s complaining, 
so I switched it off.  By then we’d left school grounds, but we were 
close to the market, so I didn’t light my cigarette. 

I noticed that Jesse’s knuckles were going white from squeezing the hell
out of the wheel.  What a pussy, I thought, he’s peeing his pants over 
a puny prophylactics purchase. 

The quietude of the car was getting to me, so I turned on the radio.  As
if the atmosphere wasn’t awkward enough, I’d tuned into the middle of 
some promiscuous teen’s PSA about STDs.  I didn’t want Jesse to think 
that it phased me (which it didn’t), so I left the radio alone. 

Just as Jose was describing his bout with Chlamidia over the airwaves,
we pulled into Stop & Shop. 

“I want to get back to school before Eighth Hour.”  Jesse said
impatiently, tapping his foot against the pavement.  I was still trying 
to thwart the tricky passenger door handle, causing Jesse to trot 
reluctantly around the Jeep and open the door for me.  Shaken by his 
forced gentlemanlinesss, Jesse neglected to wait for me to get out of 
the car, and was already in aisle C by the time the automatic doors 
swooshed open for me. 

Jesse speedwalked to the checkout aisle, where an aging blonde whose
nametag said TESS, took the box of Durexes.  The box wouldn’t scan, 
probably due to Jesse’s sweaty hands.  Tess pursed her lips in 
concentration, and concern mounted on Jesse’s brow each time the red 
line fruitlessly searched the bar code. 

“Hello Mr. Brenner, Miss Cameron.” A curt voice behind me said.  We both
turned to return the gaze of Mr. Clark, our decrepit English teacher.  
I smoothly snatched up the evidence from the counter, but as I jammed 
it into my purse, Tess clicked on the loudspeaker and announced, “Can I 
get a price check on these Durex UltraComfort condoms?  Checkout aisle 
seven?”  Shit.  Mr. Clark looked like he was stifling a giggle, but I 
didn’t see the humor.  I grabbed Jesse by the arm, and had him halfway 
to the door, when Tess yelled, “Hey, you didn’t pay for those condoms!” 
 Every head in Stop & Shop turned to look at us, and I could feel 
Jesse’s arm muscles tense up even more. 

I wasn’t even trying to act casual as I rapidly threw a five-dollar bill
on the counter.  “Keep the change,” I mumbled.  On our way out the 
door, Jesse and I turned to look at Mr. Clark.  Something in his face 
twitched—was that a wink??  I gripped Jesse’s arm tighter as he 
suddenly seemed to relax.  As the doors closed behind us, we heard 
Tess’ nasal voice shouting “You kids have a good night!”  I almost 
passed out from embarrassment, but Jesse grinned goofily, and opened 
the car door for me. 


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