You asked for it: In which we revisit buying condoms

Kent (Salt) and Annie (Pepa) are the writers of UNC’s premier (only!) satirical advice column. Results may vary.

In the infamous words of the poetic titans and popular music group Salt-N-Pepa: “Let's talk about sex, baby. Let’s talk about you and me.” 

This week, Annie and I are taking a slight detour from our normal course of action to educate you fools on romance and other things. Happy Valentine’s Day. 

You: Help! Two questions: Idk if it’s sleazy to have a bedroom playlist. Is it? Second, if you and Annie say it’s OK to have a bedroom playlist, what songs should I have on said playlist? 

Us: It is absolutely acceptable to have a bedroom playlist. Funny story about this: I polled some of my friends on the worst songs to have on a bedroom playlist. The answers included: “Cotton-Eyed Joe;” “Yakety Sax;” “This Little Light of Mine;” “This Land Is Your Land” and, of course, “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Do with this information what you will. 

You: Every time I go to the store to buy condoms, I get performance anxiety. I become confused and nervous. I feel like everyone’s watching me and I don’t know which type to buy. If I buy large condoms will people think I’m lying? If I buy small condoms will people pity me? I can’t win! 

Us: I find your use of “performance anxiety” in this context odd yet mildly amusing. Your question reminds me of the first time I purchased condoms. I was in seventh grade while playing a game of truth of dare with friends. You know, as people with friends might do. I was dared to go to the local grocery store and buy a pack of condoms. Socially insecure and desperate for friendship, I did as they commanded and walked eight miles to the store. My parents gave me a credit card for this exact purpose. Buying the condoms was surprisingly uneventful. However, when I came back, I was surprised to find all of my “friends” gone. Needless to say, this was a traumatic experience. I now buy condoms online. 

You: I’ve been sort of dating this guy for two weeks. Like, we’ve gone on a couple dates, text occasionally. That sort of thing. What should I get him for Valentine’s Day to say “I like you,” not “This girl is obsessed with me, and we’ve only been going out for two weeks?”

Us: Get him something fun and interactive, like a shared dog! He’ll love your adorable affection for animals and will be touched that you consider him 13-16 year partner material. 

You: I want to do something really special for my girlfriend this year for Valentine’s Day, so I’ve decided to cook her dinner. The only teeny-tiny problem is I’ve never touched a stove top before in my life. What should I cook her, and also, how does one “cook?”

Us: A touching and true anecdote: when my mom and dad had just started dating, my mom invited my dad over to her apartment. When he walked in, she was all excited to see him, asking him if he wanted anything to eat, and whatever else they talked about in the '90s. Probably discussing "Friends" or something. My dad, who people often say looks remarkably like Chandler, said he would love something to eat. My mom, fresh from the salon with her “The Rachel” haircut, grabbed two pieces of bread, put a single slice of deli turkey between them, and proudly handed her pathetic excuse for a sandwich to my dad. They’ve been happily married for 26 years now. True story! The lesson that can be learned from this beautiful moment: under-perform now so that she will never expect anything from you, you slimy bastard.