Dear Very Very Out Of Date Purple Condom,
I found this photo of you the other day, I took it when I was clearing out my memory box
which kind of begs 3 questions:
A) why keep a it in the first place?
B) why take a photo of it?
C) why now write a letter to it?
You were my first ever condom, I proudly kept you in my wallet
for years &years. At the time I thought this meant I was a liberated sexually confident female who wasn’t having any sex to speak of
Trying to remember where I got you from, I genuinely can’t remember which, but it was one of two places- my dad *shudders at thought* (seriously dad? Purple? Not cool- you and mum were way too old for that spice up your love life with a purple condom shit)
Or it was from Michael Speller, the boy in my year at school, who always had lots of condoms but they were all more likely to see action as a water balloon than a sexytime lifesaver.
I have been pondering why I kept you for 13 years unused, before taking this all important photo of you two years ago and finally throwing away the very very out of date you. (I suppose it’s definitely less weird than keeping my first ever USED condom, taking a photo of it and writing a letter to it right?!). I suppose I kept you because you were so important to me- so significant in my life.
I guess I had to write this letter to you because you have kind of come to symbolise my life’s work, my raison d’être etc etc*. Which is kind of ace and um a bit weird & random. But still, I thought you deserved a bit of recognition after your 15 years or so of not getting any action whatsoever.
You can proudly brag to your condom mates now.
*NOTE FOR READER- For those of you now wildly putting two and two together (pun intended) until you get “lady of the night orgy organiser” as my “life’s work” – you are probably wrong.