"Condoms?" I ask.
At this point, her boyfriend gave us his intellectual contribution to the conversation: "No. No condoms."
So while I was sneering at him, she grabs the contraceptive films holds them up to me and says, "I can stick this on me?"
I told her no. No. It goes inside you actually. To which she replied, "So you can't even feel it, right? The box says you can't feel it."
"I don't know. I assume so. I've never used them before." And after I'd somehow been conned into saying whether or not I'd used vaginal films as a means of contraceptive in my lifetime, I started looking around for the MTV Boiling Point crew. Surely if I put up with her crap for two more minutes, I would make a hundred dollars and could thus go home for the night.
But no crew emerged. Instead she told me about a patch she'd seen on TV which prevents babies. Did we have it? I explained that one has to see a doctor to be given such a magical baby preventing patch. What about the pills? Doctor, I says.
So finally they left with their films. I am upset for two reasons.
1. I did not receive a hundred dollars for having to deal with them.
2. Films aren't very effective against pregnancy. Especially when the woman using them wishes to stick them on her ass.
THOSE TWO ARE GOING TO MULTIPLY.