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Vagina Comforter

I had been dating Roger for a year and a half when he asked me to go to his best friend’s wedding.  It was in his hometown, a small railroad town located between Ohio and Indiana.

I had met the bride and groom before as well as some of his other friends.  They were all nice people–small town, simple.

As usual, like most men, Roger didn’t know anything about the wedding ahead of time except the time and place.  Oh, and that he was the best man.

Roger reserved a hotel room where the wedding party was staying since he was part of it.  It was a hotel where they used to play pool in high school, and hang out.  We got there and checked in, hung out in the room a little bit, decided to take a nap.

Got in the bed and pulled the covers up to my head because Roger was trying to freeze me out of the room by cranking the air conditioning.  Pee-Yoo!

You know how people always say never touch the hotel comforter because it’s been proven that they’re never cleaned and all the news shows have done undercover stories with black lights?  Well, they must be right.

When I pulled the covers up, I got a whiff of something disgusting.  Unexplainable.  Actually, very explainable.

I jumped up, asked Roger to smell the covers and he smelled something disgusting too.

I threw the comforter to the floor and started screaming.

“What does that smell like to you?!”

“Uh I don’t know, something bad.”

“Yes, but what?!”


“It smells like vagina!  I’m taking it to the front desk right now!”  I bolted out of the room, marching down the hall to the front desk with Exhibit A in tow.  Roger was right behind me.

“Can I please speak to the manager?!” I asked the poor girl at the desk.

“I’m the manager on duty, what seems to be the problem?”

“Smell this,” I gave her a section of the comforter that stunk to high heaven.

“I don’t smell anything,” she said in her dainty voice.

I made sure I smelled it again and handed it back to her.

“Smell here.”

She still didn’t catch a whiff of anything foul.

“Well is there anyone back there whose nose isn’t broken who can smell this?!”

“What do you think it smells like?”

Oooohhh wrong thing to ask.

“It smells like vagina!”  And everyone behind the desk and around the desk, patrons and workers alike were now looking with wide eyes.

“Would you like me to give you another comforter?”

“Not unless it’s brand new and wrapped in plastic!!  I don’t want another vagina comforter!”

“How about I comp your room for the night?”

“Sure that’d be great.”

I told her the room number, dropped the comforter on the floor next to the front desk, turned, and walked away, leaving the stinkiness behind.

Roger had been hiding behind me the entire time, and him, along with the rest of the onlookers, could not believe what came out of my mouth.

Needless to say, I’m sure I’m not welcome in that town ever again.  No worries, I don’t plan on ever going back.





The BEST holidays

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