My roadside trash piques my interest

I live on an increasingly popular, formerly gravel, now blacktopped rural road (or so it was when we moved here in 1971).
However, rural it isn’t now. In the past five years over 300 homes have been built in/on/off a 2-mile stretch of my once-quiet street.
Increased traffic brings an increasing assortment of people, which has among it a proportionate number of litterers. Our ‘throwaway society? label certainly applies to those who take my mowed yard to be a neat trash receptacle.
I’ve accepted this, and make my rounds almost everyday picking up gum wrappers, cigarette packages, fast food wrappers and napkins, wiper blades, an occasional hubcap, nonrefundable juice cans, empty water bottles, and . . . and . . . well, the package I found this week may be difficult for me to describe.
However, I’ve told readers before this is a personal column that sometimes has material that used to be reserved for adult consumption.
And, I’ve written of advertisements on television for products that used to be sold in drug stores in brown paper bags, and how I view them as private, mother-daughter-doctor intimacies, not to give me more clicker-finger exercises.
What the heck is this new thing called ‘OB?? Don’t tell me. I blush just imagining.
Back to my roadside trash.
The package I found has the same connotation as the aforementioned mother-daughter-doctor cases, only add father to this mix.
I have noticed, by glances only, displays of these things are getting greater visual prominence in pharmacies, especially the chain drug stores.
The dominant words on this black, white, red and yellow box are: ‘Ultimate Feeling.?
There are 12 to a box, that further states, ‘Avoid excess heat, store at room temperature.? My yard is warmer than room temperature and so was I when I started reading the box.
But, I, who hadn’t had any exposure to these things since my Navy basic training film in 1944, was curious. It said it was the World’s #1 brand. Could be. I can’t question that.
Apparently there is some good in them because they are ‘effective against pregnancy, HIV (AIDS) & STDs,? whatever STD is.
I continued to mow my lawn after picking up this box, and my mind wandered and wondered. Who threw it out the window, and why was it thrown away?
There were a half dozen sealed packages in the box. Beside the box was an unsealed, broken thing. More questions.
Were they tossed because they were faulty? Did two people decide it was time to start a family? Did a wife-girlfriend find the box in his glove compartment and display her anger?
Did their children find them, blow one up and decide they were all faulty when the one broke, and toss the box?
Was she driving when he found the box in her glove compartment?
Like every other product in America today, this one has warnings, too. Like never use one the second time, and consult your physician if you are allergic to latex.
Many of my contemporaries have moved into condominiums and apartments, off main roads, into private enclaves where highway litterers are ne’er to be seen.
I hope they read this and realize what they are missing. But then, this discarded box almost gave me more excitement than I could stand.