On the way back from our last float trip, we stopped at a gas station in a small town to use the facilities. Just above the toilet in the men's room was this:
No need to zoom, I'll do that here for you.
There are two condom options (both featuring a variation of ribbing) and, the most confusing, assorted novelty items. What could possibly be in there and who would put 75¢ in one of these machines? The best part is that one might possibly get a gift. "Honey, I didn't forget our anniversary, I just need to run down to the gas station for a second..."
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It should be implied that I've had occasion to utilize one of these beauties during my wicked youth. They earned the euphemism "rubber", I can certainly tell you that much. I was surprised to learn that the word "GOODYEAR" was not embossed on the side, along with 275/65 R20, 45 PSI MAX. At least 10 ply with steel belting at the tip (it was thick, is what I'm saying). And it was as sensitive as only the driest Chinese injection-molded latex manufactured in 1973 and stored in direct sunlight for the past 20 years could possibly be. Removal was only possible with a heat gun and solvents, and the sound was like Godzilla getting super pumped up and/or pissed off and then putting a beatdown on Mothra, Rodan and Ghidra all at the same damned time. And ain't nobody got time for that. I swear, even today no hair grows where my pubis was touched by that fiendish device. I still see the blood in my darkest of dreams. It was the alien face-hugger of prophylactics... oh, you CAN remove it, after some doing of course, but you ain't never gonna be the same after...
@Anonymous (whom I have a sneaking suspicion is Griz),
That is simply awesome.
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