Being a responsible and sexually active young woman, I went on birth control three months before ever engaging in any type of fandangling. So firmly had I been indoctrinated with the “if-you-get-too-close-to-a-man-you-will-most-likely-get-pregnant” that when I finally got over the fear of making a baby, I went straight to my doctor and got a nuvaring (aka the ring). The ring is a small, clear, flexible plastic circle—you don’t feel it and you don’t have to worry about it except once a month.
While hooking up with some lucky gentleman, he found the ring and pulled it out for closer inspection.
Guy: “What is this??”
Me: “My birth control.”
Guy: “Well it looks like a bracelet.”
Me: “Really?? You thought I was walking along and found this bracelet and in lieu of putting it on my wrist or in my pocket i just popped it into my vagina?”
Guy: “Well…yes.”
