FAILGATE PARTY
Today’s contributor has a near-death experience after a tailgating sexcapade
Editor’s Note: We’re a little tardy with this month’s period confession. But you know what they say—better late than pregnant.
As an avid football fan at a division I sports college, the best part of heading back to school in the fall is football season—high-intensity games, tailgating parties, and God, yes, the football players. But after a near-fatal incident last year, football season hasn’t been the same.
It all started at a homecoming tailgaite. Like everyone else, I was getting hammered in the parking lot on an absurd amount of beer. I stumbled back to my sorority house to change my tampon, when I ran into an old flame. Lets just say I never made it back to the party. Instead, I had wild and crazy, drunken sex, completely forgetting what I went back to the house for—a tampon, my period.
After the sex, I cleaned up to head over to the stadium for the game. That’s when I realized I forgot about Aunt Flow, but I wasn’t sober enough to remember I was already wearing a tampon, before lodging another one up there. I discovered this fatal flaw the next morning while I was severely hungover. And to make matters worse, I couldn’t get the first tampon out. Panicked, I ran to my sorority sisters for help.
The brightest of the bunch somehow convinced me I had toxic shock syndrome—that thing you read about on tampon boxes, but ignore. Instantly, we were all panicked, and probably more drunk than hungover, trying to figure out what to do next. That’s when another one of my sorority sisters did a Google search and claimed that if I didn’t get this tampon out of me soon, I had something insane like 24 hours to live. “Call the nurse!” someone shouted.
There I was, on the floor of our bathroom, crouched on all fours, taking instructions from the school nurse. “You have to contract your vaginal muscles” she said. “I’m trying,” I responded, while four of my sorority sisters watched in horror. “Push! Push!” they all screamed in unison. Eventually, we got the tampon out, but I’ll never be able to live down the sheer idiocy for the rest of my life.
