Normally, here on DateSpaces, we try to keep things PG-13…for the most part. But this story was too hilarious not to post. Your author has asked for the veil of anonimity, so we’re going to call him George Constanza. Here is George’s tale:

A note to all you Casanovas out there: That old proverb about not counting your chickens before they hatch? Well, it’s true.

I started dating a girl while in college who seemed to really be into me. Now, while at university, I had dealt with a string of false starts and the occasional hookup, but no long-term anything. I may be a rare breed, but at the time I started dating the girl we’ll call Allison, I was looking for something that would stick. A girlfriend would be a nice addition.

Things started going really well. We went out on a bunch of dates and began getting closer. Finally, a certain deed was done a few times, and I had run out of an old box of contraceptives I had bought right before leaving for college. So it was time to go get more. I arrived at my local CVS to peruse the condom aisle. Guys, you’ve been there. You walk by a few times and, out of the corner of your eye, check out the selection. Ribbed. Extra large. Extra small. Lubricated. Spermicide. Latex. Natural/Sheepskin. Vibrating. Seriously? A cornucopia of prophylactics.

Now, there’s something you should know about this situation. Like many college students, I was lazy. So there’s no way I wanted to keep going back to do this dance over and over again. Plus, there’s that whole slight amount of embarrassment that most of us like to prevent (True story: I once stood behind a guy at a drug store, who purchased a pack. The lady at the cash register looked up and shouted, “Hey, John! Price check on the condoms!!”).

That’s when I spied it: the 40-pack. It was like that worn-out cliche of the light hitting them and the chorus singing a beautiful chord. It was perfect: I figured I was in for somewhat of a long haul with Allison, I didn’t have to go back for a refill for a while, and I’d be supplied to the hilt (pun intended).

I went back to my dorm with my chin up, head held high and a song in my heart. I was reloaded. I was ready for action. I was…

Dumped the next day. It turns out a small argument we had the night before the purchase was actually part of a bigger issue that Allison had been thinking about for a while. I didn’t mention that I had spent $27.64 on our future.

And there I am, with a box of 40 condoms, just begging to be used. But perhaps the powers that be saw the hubris I had while making my purchase. They knew pride goeth before a fall.

So not only did I get dumped by Allison, but I went on a cold streak the likes of which no one has ever suffered. Sure, I dated a bit. Yes, there was an occasional makeout session. But the 40-pack gathered dust for an entire two and a half years (gasp!). Sure, attribute it to the lack of game I had. However, I swear that pack was cursed.

Let this be a warning to all of you: buy the eight-pack. And communicate with the person you’re dating, before you spend $27.64.