Hey, Let's All Talk About It, Since Apparently It's So NATURAL...

Another "retro blog" featuring my old roomie David.

There are inherent differences between myself and my roommate. He has two sisters, I have two brothers; he grew up in a small town in a large state, I grew up in a large city in a small state; his mother tells him about her yeast infections, mine does not.


We--that is, my roommate and I--were watching TV not too long ago when a commercial for Product Y suddenly appeared. I say "suddenly" because no matter how well prepared you are for a commercial, it always seems sudden when said commercial spits out the words "vaginal yeast infection."


I like to think I'm open minded. I like to think a have a strong stomach. But when one of these commercials comes on, I feel like a censorious little piggy on the verge of blowing chow. The problem (for me) is that they start off so INNOCENTLY. A pretty maiden strolls down a country lane after a spring shower. Or maybe it's a spring lane after a country shower. In any case, said maiden smiles beatifically while idly twirling a daisy between thumb and forefinger.


"I love days like this," she sighs, still smiling, while sniffing the daisy. Then--SUDDENLY--she screams, "Unless I happen to be suffering from a VAGINAL YEAST INFECTION!" (caps mine) Okay, so maybe she doesn't scream--but I always jump, so it seems like she's screaming.


I remark, to no one in particular, "That's gross."


"Oh, please," responds my roommate in particular, while rolling his eyes.


I know he's rolling his eyes, even though my back is to him, because he's using that rolling-his-eyes tone of voice.


Anyway, rolling my eyes right back, almost to the very top of my head, I say to my roommate,

"Well, honestly! What if I had been eating?"


"What if you had?" he retorts. "These commercials are no worse than the ones for hemorrhoids.”


"Exactly," I wince, and the meal I finished almost an hour ago creeps up another few inches from my stomach.


"Hasn't your mother ever talked about it before?"


"With ME?" I respond/shriek. "My mom talk about a yeast infection with ME?" I couldn't have had a more incredulous look on my face if he'd just told me that HE had a vaginal yeast infection.


His rolling eyes tone is back. "It's perfectly natural."


But further discussion is hampered by the fact that I remain rooted to my chair, shivering, with a glazed look on my face while mumbling, "His mother tells him about her yeast infections, his mother tells him..."


My roommate shuffles into the kitchen to cook something really smelly, hoping to make me throw up.


A few days later, as luck would have it (and it always does), was my monthly obligatory call to mom. She starts telling me about her new boyfriend. "I like him all right," says mom. "Just not enough to sleep with him."


I chuckle good naturedly. Moms say the darndest things. "Well how do you get out of it?" I ask politely (how else would you ask such a question, but politely?).


Mom says, "Oh, I manage." Dramatic pause here. "Last time, I just told him I had a yeast infection."


She laughs. I scream. And tell her I have to go because lunch is coming up.


Later, the irony overwhelms me and I repeat the conversation to my roommate, bracing myself for a smug, “I told you so.”


But his mouth is agape. He looks shocked beyond measure. Finally, he sputters, "Oh, my GOD! I can't believe your mother talks to you about her sex life!!"


I can't wait to see the commercials for it.