A Christmas story: The Tale of the Sweet Love Disposable Douche

[PoorMatty]

Many months ago, I was in a dollar store with a female friend, who suddenly yelled for me to come see something on the feminine product aisle. And there before me was a magnificent spectacle.



It was wonderful in so many ways, the most obvious of which was the marvelous title. Sweet Love! How delightful! Who wouldn't want to douche it up with that? It makes me wish I had a vagina!

We had a nice laugh over the Sweet Love disposable douche, and its happily beaming spokesmodel, presumably feeling "clean and confident," and then went about our lives.

Flash forward a few months to a dinner I had with my family in an O'Charley's restaurant. For those who don't know, O'Charley's is a Southern chain, a sort of pseudo-Applebee's/Ruby Tuesday type deal, that is known for having a large mural painted on the wall depicting various scenes and landmarks pertinent to the history of the city that each restaurant is in. I was especially drawn to one facet of the particular mural I was dining near on this occasion. A face, eerily familiar--yet pleasantly fresh and confident--grinned down at me like a guardian angel throughout my meal. And yet I couldn't place my memory of this friendly countenance. So familiar, and yet . . . . so unsettling.

Flash forward yet again to this Christmas, as I searched for a gift to give a friend . . . in the Dollar Store (yeah, yeah, yeah, they weren't a very close friend, don't judge me). I thought, "Hmm, I wonder if the Sweet Love douches are sold here." I tracked them down, and it was like I was coming face to face with an old friend. And then it hit me.

In a mad dash, I hurried to O'Charley's and there she was, her face still glowing with the warmth of a sweet, sweet love.



I don't claim to know why the Sweet Love douche girl found her way onto the O'Charley's wall. Perhaps she was a friend of the artist. Or perhaps the artist was so taken with the fresh, confident feeling she felt after partaking of said Sweet Love that she felt she had to pay an homage to this kindly soul.

And perhaps it's best that I never know. It would spoil the magic of this very special, heartwarming Christmas tale.