While enduring a two-hour wait for ramen in Los Angeles's Little Tokyo, I found these minicondoms in a corner store to rival the ones Switzerland distributes to sexually active preteens. It's hard to see now, but to say they were a half-inch wide would be kind.
I knew you'd like, but I didn't want to be seen either buying or taking pictures. So I sent my friend to purchase the chocolate-filled panda crackers I'd been eyeing to distract the cashier. As I snapped away, I heard, "I see your friend found the little condoms." Busted, I turned around and asked if they were real. "Sure," he said, "they're for your ex-boyfriend."