P-Town Adventures Part 1: Bad Omens

A painting of a sad, thin white girl looking into a broken mirror.

The first sign that everything was not going down as the idealic weekend I envisioned came Thursday Morning: as I was trying to choose a necklace to match my black, gold and blue shirt–not one, but three of them broke as I tried them on!

I finally put on the studiest necklace that I owned–which happened to match my outfit perfectly!

I decided not to let that bad omen shake me: those were cheap necklaces, and I could fix two of them.

The next bad sign was Friday Morning, when the slight vaginal irritation which I had been trying to ignore turned into a raging yeast infection! Shit! Nothing says sexy like vaginal yeast infections!

Actually, I think maybe I got it from the last time my boo and I were together. It’s the second time that happened. I’m trying to figure out how to ask her if we can use gloves.

I’ve never done that before, and I’m not sure how I’d feel about being asked that–especially with the implication that I was dirty/giving my girl yeast infections!

I bought one of those monistat one day things, still trying to figure out whether I could play this off, or if I should tell her.

Squatting over the toilet, I inserted the bead–only to have it jam in the applicator!  $20 for this bead and it failed to launch! Now what was I supposed to do? I wondered, eyeing the misshapen white pearl dubiously–return it? Yeah, I could picture that scene at the drug store! I wrestled the punctured pouch from it’s casing and jammed it up there manually, praying that that would work.

The third bad omen came Friday night as I was packing–remember that bathing suit I went to so much effort to buy? Turns out they left the tamper-proof-dye-dispensing bolt in the fabric!
Fuck!
With my pussy on fire and my 4 sizes too big bathing suit in my luggage–I headed down to P-Town.

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