For starters, our pads, tampons and panty (hello 1930’s) liners are referred to as sanitary napkins/products. Okay, that term did not come from the minds of women. Why? Because we know what periods are all about. They’re messy and bloody and often inconvenient. Sanitary? Um, no.
You know it, even with blood oozing out from our insides through our sanitary vaginas.
You see, if I want to be a good female citizen and properly package and dump my sanitary product in a public washroom, here’s what needs to happen: I’ve got to bundle my sanitary product in toilet paper and then do a full 90˚ turn to the right or left and twist back to raise the lid of a little metal (and most definitely unsanitary) box attached to the wall and deposit my offering, all while maintaining my squatting position two inches off of the toilet seat. I’m in okay shape, but come on!
Femcare? That’s got MALE written all over it.
Or, option #2: I have to shuffle like a crab for several steps in my squat position, panties around my ankles, to a special lady bin, step on a pedal and dump. Then shuffle backward to return to the toilet. 100 bonus points to any woman who successfully does this single-handed, while trying to prevent a dress or skirt from dropping down into the toilet, or from having it accidentally rub up against her exposed, sanitary area.
I estimate a 12-step “sanitary” round-trip shuffle to the bin and back.
What kind of dumb ass came up with this whacked system? Not a woman. It’s tough enough remaining sanitary while squatting over a toilet seat. To have to move around or reposition ourselves to maintain sanitation is ass backward. There’s slim chance that something ain’t dripping somewhere while these feminine feats are being preformed.
Actually no, not really. A period day is not by default a happy day. Even that freakish looking 8-year-old doesn’t look particularly happy. Maybe because she hasn’t yet had the pleasure of using the sanitary product she is advertising.
And while we’re at it, each of us menstruating women might as well get a bullhorn and announce to our companions in the washroom that we have our period for all the indiscreet noise the opening and closing of these sanitary receptacle bins produce.
“Stall number 4. Stall number 4. We have a bleeder!”
Just look at my jazzy silhouette, purse in hand, kicking up my very feminine high heels because I’m bleeding again, just like I did 28 days ago. You go girl, you sanitary goddess.
Women, it’s high time we get female thinkers into the design of our public washrooms. I know, I know, as the weaker, more delicate sex we all inherently feel we deserve to suffer, be martyrs, not behave in a bitchy manner, accept our lot in life to always appear sanitary and desirable. But you know, after having personally suffered through this sanitary fiasco for the past 30 years, I’m ready to speak up.
This is not how it goes for me, but I’m certain if I had those perfectly manicured hands it would always be this sanitary and go this well.
For the love of our great gender, could a woman please design bins that are activated electronically by a simple wave of the hand, which then opens a little door with the sound of a whisper, into which I can easily and with little movement from my precarious position over the throne, deposit my decidedly unsanitary product. And will somebody please clarify to men that women taking care of their “feminine hygiene” by using “sanitary napkins” doesn’t translate into happy, sexy, carefree feelings, regardless of what the packaging says?
True, it is a fantasy for a man to think that the time I’m going to purposely select to flirt with him is when I have a sanitary napkin stuck in my panties. Yet, I somehow don’t think that’s the message this sanitary product is trying to sell…
Sorry if I came off as bitchy. I guess the only plausible explanation is PMS.
HEY BEERGUT!! 