That Bloody Ride

As part of James & Oneg’s Summer Writing Challenge Extravaganza, we present to you the Awkward Elevator Challenge!

The challenge is to write about a time you did something embarrassing (or make it up), and the person that saw it happen, suddenly gets in an elevator with you shortly after.

There is no time or word count limit.

And remember, make sure you tag some folks to participate, and share the original challenge post linked above in your entries.

There are these tricks that tend to remain taboo. If you’ve ever menstruated, or know someone close who has, you might have learned these tricks. They’re not shared out loud often, but sometimes, in the late-night-anxiety-filled text message, the harsh realities are revealed.

Unfortunately, that didn’t help me today.

There was no saviour for my horror, no hero for my self esteem. Just the crimson beginnings of something I’d probably play repeatedly in my head for the next twenty years.

I had just boarded the bus and grabbed that last remaining empty seat when the first cramp hit. It wasn’t a kicker, but it definitely made me internally groan. I knew I was due to start my period soon, but my alarm hadn’t woken me up this morning and the whole day was constantly in delay. I just couldn’t seem to catch up to this shitty Tuesday.

Hopefully, I would be able to make it home without any accidents and just crumble under my thick comforter with some chocolate covered pretzels and binge watch some K-drama.

Usually I’d start wearing a liner a day or two before my period, but my mental list of to-do’s was getting too full. Which meant I forgot to pick up another box on my way home yesterday. Along with those pretzels. My stomach groaned along with me, awkwardly and externally this time. That resulted in some side-eye from my bus buddy here.

Trying not to eye them up too much, I scoffed internally at the expensive Lululemon gear, topped with some serious bling and a rosy pink purse that probably stashed a pad I could use.

“Don’t think about it, don’t think about it.” I was riding bare style and the cramps were only mocking me as the bus stopped at yet another small street where no-one was waiting. I was getting impatient. My leg started bouncing up and down, my fingers drumming on my knee, because guess what else I forgot this morning? My earphones. I didn’t even have music to try and calm the shit storm brewing inside me.

Speaking of shit, that first-day-period shit was definitely forming. Grabbing a full pita of shawarma with those greasy fries from the food truck by my work was another tactless event that happened today; thanks to me forgetting my prepacked lunch. And where did I leave my prepacked lunch? On the counter, in front of my sleepy face. I think there’s some expression for this ridiculousness, something like “have eyes but doesn’t see?”

The bus lurched forward again, and with it my intestines, liver, appendix, kidneys, whatever else I had in there that my uterus was kicking at. Another groan, another side-eye from Ms. Perfect next to me. Gosh, can I be home already?

The next stop was announced, and I let out a sigh of relief, realizing that I was almost at my apartment; I never felt so grateful for that robotic bus lady voice. “Bless your wires, you robotic lady angel!”

But it was when I stood up way too fast and early to wait by the doors that I felt that sinking feeling. That drop in the pit of my stomach. The heat between my thighs. The racing beat of my heart as I felt the full force of my period hit. “Oh no.”

Trick number two that I forgot about, always bring a sweater to wrap around your waist in case of accident. And I wore a t-shirt. A stupid, light coloured, Tom & Jerry graphic t-shirt. Idiot.

I clutched the yellow pole by the bus doors until my knuckles were white and my palm hurt, praying that it wasn’t that bad. But Mother Nature must have been cross with me for not separating my recycling properly last week and thought this was a great time for revenge.

Ms. Lulu strolled up behind me as the bus halted to a stop, and I could almost inhale her expensive perfume scent over my panic.

“You left a little something back there.”

I turned my gaze back to where I had sat and contrasting brilliantly against the bright blue fabric was a beauty of a red, blobby, spot.

The colour drained from my face (obviously left in my pants and on the bus) at the realization of the dreaded leakage. It was bad.

The bus doors swung open, I bolted out awkwardly walking as fast as I could towards my apartment complex, thighs and buttocks squeezing together, trying to deter further bloodshed. But who was I trying to kid? My bookbag thunked against my butt with every step, and who knew what was visible from behind at this point.

I reached the elevators and anxiously smashed the silver button at least eight times as I prayed for one thing to go right today. Thankfully the elevator doors slid open welcomingly only a few seconds later. I shuffled in, trying to keep my legs together and instantly spun around so my backside was facing the elevator wall.

Just as the doors were about to close, a manicured hand reached across and triggered the sensors. The door reopened like a show curtain announcing Ms. Perfect Lemonbutt’s entrance, who gracefully floated into the elevator. “I’m on the sixth floor, if you could hit the button for me, please.”

At this point, I had no shred of dignity or hope left, so with a pale face and shaky finger, I pressed the button and whispered, “oh haha, me too.”

I decided to write this story because it is something that is quite often a reality, and there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about, as embarrassing as it may feel. Menstruation is a normal and common human experience, yet it is not talked about openly enough. Menstruators need to stick together and support one another. Because we’ve all be there, in some form or another.

Although thankfully, I haven’t been unlucky enough to leak and be caught, I have had times where the bloody stain is visible. Luckily, I was already at a place (like home or a friend’s house) where I could change and deal with the situation more adequately.

The truth is, is that menstruation is uncomfortable and inconvenient. I have yet to meet someone who enjoys it. But we try to look out for each other. And always carry some backup supplies in case you get a surprise! And if you do happen to come across that birthday red surprise, it ain’t the end of the world. Hopefully someone will have your back, and if not, you are still an awesome and normal person and no one is going to actually judge you.