Condoms Condemned

 In the vast pantheon of things that I don't like, you'd have to go a long way to beat condoms.
 It's not just that they're objectively ridiculous, although I've never found a sexy way to get through that whole "hey, wait there a second" mood killer. I hate pretty much everything about condoms.
 Technologically, they're laughable. In an era when we get live updates on the robot exploring mars delivered directly to the small communication device in our pockets, the way to make my penis less fertile should surely be more subtle than "wrap it in something."
 Sartorially, they're inept. They look stupid, and they're a terrible fit for pretty much anybody. I don't know who designed the modern condom, but I'd be scientifically intrigued to see what his junk looked like. All the attempts at making them more interesting through textures and flavours are redundant, as you can get vibrating sex toys in the average pub toilet these days that appear far more interesting, which again brings up the technology argument.
 Finally, though, what I hate most about condoms is buying them.
 It's not embarrassment at the idea that I have to tell other people I have a sex life; it's embarrassment at how arrogant that makes me feel. Buying condoms feels like I'm shouting "Hey, look at all the sex I'm having!" and that makes me feel, somewhat ironically, like a massive dick.
 All of this is old news, of course. I learned to bite the bullet and accept these little annoyances years ago, but it wasn't until today that I realised just how badly I'm being ripped off by condoms. (In fact, I always thought that process was supposed to work the other way around, but hey...)
 First of all, a few months back, I found out that the "everything for a pound" shop near my house sold prophylactics.
 This filled me with suspicion, but as I was out today and needed to stock up, I decided that for once, the medieval nature of condoms was in my favour. They don't need microchips or bluetooth capability, I reasoned. They just have to be made of something watertight. I'm pretty sure you can manufacture a small, watertight pouch for under a pound, so all should be well.
 Disappointingly, the pound-shop has apparently stopped selling condoms (due, I'm forced to assume, to a spate of local pregnancies) so I went to the supermarket.
 After buying a few things to camouflage the purchase (again, buying nothing but johnnies makes me feel somehow like I'm hitting on the checkout girl) I went and found the relevant aisle, and was stunned to see that a box of ten condoms was £10, but then you could get another, additional box for a pound extra.
 This means that Durex have apparently adopted the "double up for a pound" idea first used in Wetherspoons, which is both bizarre and fitting, as the Wetherspoons offer is how I usually manage to get laid anyway.
 Still, how badly are we being ripped off as consumers when condoms are clearly carrying a 90% markup as standard? Aside from the enjoyable irony of being fucked by a condom company, I'm quite annoyed.
 Clearly, the pound shop had the right idea, and my reasoning was sound. All these things are is small, latex sheaths, and as such they're dismissively cheap to manufacture.
 So, on top of all the other reasons to hate condoms, the price is apparently the final insult.
 I still bought the extra box for a pound. I didn't feel so much like I was hitting on the checkout girl at this point as actively announcing myself as a sex offender, but hey, my cheapness often trumps my neurosis.
 As a final note, by the way, buying twenty condoms apparently gets you bonus points on the "vouchers for schools" programme.
 Here's a hint: I don't have kids...