I’ve Never Seen a Maxi Pad in a Shoe Box

Something happened to me at work this wee that I thought would be best re-told in rhyme. *Sigh*. Here goes….

I work part time at a retail store

Because I love shoes and things covered in rhinestone

It’s also so that I can get discounts

On several other accessories I hope to later flaunt


And I have never seen a maxi pad in a shoe box


I’ve seen many things while at my post

People of different races stealing things, probably most

Or is it one particular group who delights in leaving items strewn on the floor?

Ugh, those are the days at work I most abhor


Yet I have never seen a maxi pad in a shoe box


I’ve seen grown men spit into our plastic bins in the aisles

I’ve watched pregnant women hurl their bile

I’ve looked on while little Frankie runs roughshod all over the store

While his mother stares at him blankly with eyes that say “I can’t take this anymore!”


Yet I have never seen a maxi pad in a shoe box


I’ve seen shady customers try to purchase items with fake checks

Then storm off when the transaction fails screaming:

“You’re gonna hear from my lawyer, you bet!”

A quivering sales associate stands at the till in fear

Wondering if the threat means that the end of her employment is near


Yet I have never seen a maxi pad in a shoe box

There are days when retail work can tire you to the bone

When your feet are so sore that you cry on the way home

When your back turns to jelly and your knees turn to jam

You want to quit but can’t, because your colleagues have become your fam


And also because you’ve never seen a maxi pad in a shoe box


Until tonight…


What manner of zoo animal came into your store

Who would think it fit to remove a sanitary napkin from her drawers

And place the vaginal scented item in a box of Michael Kors’

When the distance measured to the toilet in feet was no further than four?


Why am I looking at this maxi pad in a shoe box???


Who does this…and why?

Was it for the sole purpose of making me cry?

I swear, I only work here to get by

Not because I have aspirations of becoming a socialite…


Father in Heaven… I mean. It’s a maxi pad. In a shoe box!


Perhaps you’re wondering if it was bloody

Or tinged in a color that made it appear muddy

Your imagination conjures up visions of things nasty

Even the previous owner, for she surely must be trashy


To do something as vile as leave a maxi pad in a shoe box

And so my friends, I must end this little rhyme

And hope when I go to work next, it will be not to speak of a time

When I perchance wandered down the meandering store aisles

And felt my heart quicken at so tawdry a sight

As a maxi pad in a shoe box.