What is it with condom wrappers?
You have a couple-night stand and you find goddamned condom wrappers everywhere you look for weeks. A bit of hot pink here, a gold packet there… Little torn bits of that too stiff plastic that can be nothing else: Dirty sex!
And god forbid it be an unpleasant experience. (Not that I’m familiar, but I’ve heard rumours.) Then they serve as a reminder — of bad things.
At least if you have carpets it wedges someplace, but I’m a hard wood girl. (You knew that much already, right?)
It gives chase. (As do I.)