Mmm, tampon, my favorite thing to have in my mouth!

As a Columbia student, I frequent Liz’s Place often, stopping in to grab a cappuccino before class or to study in my favorite red chair by the door. Being a cis man, I find myself most comfortable on Barnard’s campus, surrounded by beautiful women. I feel like more of a man under their gaze—they inspire me to work more productively, to dress with a bit more flair. As I stalk the halls of Diana, I hope that one Barnard baddie will someday approach me, filling my open arms. 

This semester, Liz’s Place has implemented a self-checkout grab-and-go section, aiming to accommodate the long lines that accumulate due to the closing of Peet’s Coffee. This grab-and-go section is kept on constant rotation, bearing a selection of Swedish Fish and tree nuts, Monster Energy Drinks, and Tropicana smoothies. Their rotating assortment just keeps me coming back for more.

One day, I came across a curiously boxed snack in a tray next to the payment pad. I had never seen this item in the snack aisles of grocery stores before. Perhaps it was of foreign origin? The snacks came in different shapes—one was thin and flat, and another looked long and cylindrical. Unfortunately, the package didn’t include ingredient information, but I assumed they were some sort of rice cake. And by God, do I love dry bland foods! 

The marketing on the boxes also utilized techniques I hadn’t seen before. It seemed to take a sustainable, customer-centered approach, talking of comfort and discreteness. These snacks must be engineered to feel really good in your mouth, but also not make too much noise. At first, however, I was a bit concerned by one of the product’s statements—“40% Less Plastic.” Are microplastics really becoming that widespread? Luckily, I soon realized that this statement concerned the protective packing surrounding the snack. Another claim these products made that initially confused me was that of absorbency, a description I’ve never heard of being associated with food. After further thought, I realized this likely meant absorbency of saliva or ease of digestion. However, this description still slightly confused me, and I recommend the company behind these rice cakes rethink the packages’ dictions. These snacks must be a favorite among Barnard students, though, because I feel like I’ve heard them discuss the product names before. 

I decided to buy one of each—one “pad” and one “tampon.” I sat down in Liz’s Place and quickly opened the boxes, my stomach rumbling in anticipation. I set out to try a pad first. I unwrapped the plastic covering, surprised at finding a mass that looked like some sort of papery cotton. It smelled quite fragrant, making me wonder if instead of a rice cake, it was some sort of tea bag. I decided to put it back in the packaging and open up a tampon instead. 

The tampon had a hard plastic thing around it, which I couldn’t figure out how to remove. After fidgeting for a while, I was able to press one side against the other, allowing the rice cake to be pushed out of one end. I thought this was really cool—it sort of reminded me of one of those Kinder Surprise eggs. As I took a bite into the tampon, I realized it tasted quite like… clothing? I continued chewing, but it wasn’t really fully dissolving in my mouth. Then I realized the string on the other end—so this was a tea bag! 

Feeling stupid for having put the tampon in my mouth when it was obviously a tea bag, I got my stuff and left Liz’s Place, heading to the bathroom. I filled my water bottle with hot sink water in preparation. Then, I realized that I had completely forgotten about the pad! Just to be sure, I taste-tested that one as well—yep, also tasted like clothing. The sleeve of a baggy cotton sweater, to be exact. I decided to go ahead and stuff both the pad and tampon in my water bottle, since I was curious to see how the tea was expelled. I had honestly never seen tea bags that looked like this. However, the pad and tampon just seemed to expand a little, giving off little bits that floated in the water. I had no fucking idea what was going on. What would this even be used for? Is it stuffing for pillows? Reusable toilet paper? I took out my phone and searched it up. 

Oh… aw shit, I did that in front of the Barnard girls? That explains why everyone was staring. It’s not that I looked especially good today, it’s that… oh, aw shit… 

Liz’s Place via Bold Beautiful Barnard Admissions Blog.