So the other day we went out and about on the town to do a few administrative things. I thought it would just take a few minutes, and thus didn�t stress the fact that I needed my purse in order to be able to carry around my lady products. After awhile, though, The Boy said, "Wanna hang out and get some sangria on a terrace?" Never one to turn down such an offer, I said, "Sure, but I�m gonna have to stop by a drug store first."
The thing is, apparently Spanish people - or should I say, ladies - don�t buy their feminine products in a drug store. Or at least there are no drug stores anywhere downtown Malaga. And actually, not only do you have to go into a pharmacy to BUY the damn things, you also have to specifically ask for them.
That would be fine and dandy if I knew how to say "Tampons, please" in Spanish. And, sure, had I been on my toes and not so stressed out by the fact that I had to ask the old hard-of-hearing Spanish pharmacist for a box of tampons, I would have said, "A box of Tampax, please" because apparently the brand is universal.
But no, instead I walked in, stepped up to the counter with all eyes and ears pointed at this absurdly tall girl (the Spaniards are a short bunch, whoa), and said, "Hello there. I�m looking for a product, but I don�t know what to call it in Spanish."
"Oh, write the name, then," he said, thinking I was referring to a type of medication.
"No, no. It�s not medicine. It�s a basic product for women. They can buy it in a drug store or a grocery store or whatever."
"Ok...well...what does it DO exactly?"
"Well, I don�t want to get into details, but women need it every month, once a month and..." (intentionally letting my sentence trail off)
"TAMPAX!!!" he cried, as if it were a contest and he had just won. Every head in the pharmacy snapped back my direction to see what the hoopla was about as the wacky pharmacist said, again, "Yes!! Of course!! TAMPAX!!!"
He chuckled, walked to the backroom and came out waving two boxes of tampons for me to choose from. Just in case everybody in the pharmacy hadn�t already figured out what I was there for. For a brief moment I feared he would sing a little song, with a tap dance to match.
But you know, I made a slick move by buying a nail filer, too. I think I fooled them.
Hee hee hee. I bet you did.
Either that, or Spainiards now wonder what absurdly tall bosom-y women do to their cootchie every month.
This story reminds me, though, of when I was in Paris and I got a yeast infection, and I knew it, and all I wanted was, y'know, over the counter here in the states, but I didn't even know how to ask in Paris. So finally I just had to go to a doctor and say, " I'm not at ease down there" which made me feel like I was maybe three.
We can always count on Lee Ann for mishaps with Spanish and feminine things. . . does the underwear story ring a bell???
We can always count on Lee Ann for mishaps with Spanish and feminine things. . . does the underwear story ring a bell???
We can always count on Lee Ann for mishaps with Spanish and feminine things. . . does the underwear story ring a bell???