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After seeing the movie Con Air, I really needed to pee.

(What the f@#* does this have to do with Monstress?! Fair question, but calm down—I promise there’s a point to this.)

I walked out of the theater and, perhaps overcome by the emotion of Cameron Poe saving the day, stumbled into what I thought was the men’s room, only to be confused when I couldn’t find any urinals. I shrugged—this wacky theater, I thought—and walked into a stall, unzipped, and proceeded to divest myself of copious quantities of soda. As I peed, I looked to my right at a strange-looking box affixed to the stall wall. “That’s odd,�� I thought. “Is that, like, a little mini garbage can?��

Curious, I lifted the lid of the box and peered inside. That’s when confusion set in.

(And now you’re starting to see where this is going.)

Used monthly friend absorbers. It was filled with used monthly friend absorbers. (For the thick-skulled ninnywit in the back, I mean tampons—it was filled with used tampons.)

Just at that moment, as it began to dawn on me that I had not, in fact, gone into the men’s room, another person entered the rest room, popped into the stall next to me, and proceeded to, well, make some real magic. The acoustics in that place��

I waited until my neighbor had finished, washed her hands, and exited. Taking a deep breath (and then immediately regretting it), I opened the stall door and walked, quickly and purposefully, out of the ladies�� room and into the adjacent men’s room, where I started giggling hysterically as I washed my hands (because I’m not an animal and still needed to do that, especially after touching the used monthly friend absorber box).

Okay, okay—go ahead and ask it again. I dare you.

SEAN—WHAT THE F@#* DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH MONSTRESS?

That inadvertent use of the ladies�� room* was simultaneously one of the most perplexing and entertaining experiences of my life. Reading Monstress was a similar, if not quite as memorable, albeit far more sanitary, experience.

First off: the art is GORGEOUS. This is an absolutely beautiful book—Takeda is an incredible artist. The story is a bit baffling at the outset, and it wasn’t until the fifth or sixth issue that I felt like I had a good grasp of what was going on, but Liu’s world and characters are compelling, and I wanted to keep reading even when I wasn’t quite sure what was happening. And, I’m definitely inclined to seek out more of this steampunk/fantasy/horror mashup, which genre hops with reckless abandon from one page to the next.

Well worth a read, and it would probably make excellent bathroom reading material no matter which bathroom you choose to use. Huge thanks to Sara for the awesome recommendation!

*Bear in mind that this was 1997, and it was strictly prohibited for gents to use the ladies�� room, particularly in Midwestern suburbia. Had I been discovered, it would have been a scandal that would have rocked the local newspaper.