As a "liberated woman" of some repute myself I could TOTALLY see one of you getting me to do this! This story is from one of my favorite tweeps, Lori. Lori seldom blogs about vibrators at In Pursuit of Martha Points. Her tweets are slightly less G-rated at @marthapoints.
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The following is a true story. This happened when I was still married to Husband 1.0 and my son was about 4 years old.
It is generally known that I live in California - Land of opportunity, sunshine, obscene property taxes and loose women.
Apparently.
Or perhaps, “liberated” women would be the better term, and it seemed that I was One Of Them.
A friend in Texas was going through what we call a “dry spell.” And by dry spell I mean she was considering re-enrolling in a 10th grade health class because the illustrations would get her closer to male anatomy than she’d been in some time.
She needed some help. Specifically, the battery powered kind.
Living in a small town in Texas, there was nowhere to buy such a thing. And she couldn’t risk ordering something and having it delivered as she was staying with her parents to save money while she finished up a degree.
She loved her parents and did not want either of them to have a stroke upon the arrival of a delivery from “Judy’s Juicies” or “Harry’s House O’ Hymens.”
So who did she turn to in her 4 minutes of need?
Right. Yours Truly, the Liberally Loose California Floozy. Because everyone knows that in California you can buy a dildo on the produce aisle next to the cucumbers.
We are just that damned progressive.
The friend asked for me to do her this one small favor as a birthday gift and really, how can you deny a friend her god-given right to adult toys? No. I would make it happen.
So to speak.
In the town next to mine is a lovely “women’s intimacy” shop. It sells delicately sweeping lingerie, texts on spiritual physicality (complete with naughty illustrations), feathers, racy board games and yes, the nitty and the gritty for reaching the high notes à cappella.
We went as a family.
We were headed out to the little town anyway for some outing, and I requested that we stop at the shop. The husband and the four-year-old stayed in the minivan. Yes, a minivan. Because when you’re shopping for things in the cuffing and buffing industry, you really must show up in an Island Blue swagger wagon with seven cup-holders.
I walked in to the shop and scanned. Lingerie, books, feathers…where was the section for things that needed electricity?
Then I noticed a heavy wooden bureau. I crossed the room and opened the top drawer. Flavored condoms, silk cords and satin blindfolds. I opened the middle drawer. Vibrators, anatomically exaggerated dildos and fuzzy handcuffs. Ah ha! Clearly this was the drawer I wanted. But curiosity got the best of me and I opened the bottom drawer.
I did not recognize a single piece of equipment in the array before me.
Ok, back one drawer up.
There were many colors and styles to choose from. What would she like? Leopard print? Pink glitter? Probably not the glow-in-the-dark green. It’s not like she’s directing aircraft.
I selected a tasteful tiger-stripe and walked to the counter. The young lady salesclerk asked if I wanted batteries. I said, “Well, it wouldn’t be a very nice gift without them, would it?”
She gave me the “Oh, we’re pretending it’s for someone else” look.
Whatever, honey. Just take my damned credit card.
She put the tiger-striped Ode to Joy in the bag with the batteries and a brochure about the shop. I got back in the driver’s seat and handed the paper bag to the husband who was seated in the middle next to the boy. We drove without incident back to the town where we lived. A couple miles from home, the husband looked in the bag to see what I’d selected and noticed the brochure. He pulled it out and started to read. A minute or so later he cried out, “Oh my god!”
“What??” I cried, turning behind me to see what was so fascinating.
And then…CRASH!
I rear-ended a delivery truck.
No one was hurt. Our minivan was damaged far worse than the truck. The driver of the truck felt badly for stopping so quickly. I felt bad for letting myself get distracted by badly illustrated brochure porn.
And the thought that repeated over and over in my mind was, “I just got into a car accident because of a vibrator.”
As it was the weekend, we left a message with our insurance agent to report the accident. When the claims adjuster called me back on Monday he asked, “Are there circumstances that you’d like us to consider regarding the accident, or would you like to admit fault?”
I considered documenting in a claim form that the reason for the accident was because I’d been distracted by an erotically themed brochure I got from the adult store when I was buying a tiger-striped vibrator for a sexually frustrated friend who lived in Texas.
“My fault,” I said. “Totally, completely and absolutely my fault. Nothing to explain here. Not a damned thing.”
So my friend got her needs discreetly met and I got to pay more for my car insurance.
Let’s see you turn that into a slogan, Mr. Ad Exec.
sooo... what WAS so fascinating?? ;)
Posted by: Rusti | April 26, 2011 at 03:07 PM
Funniest thing I have read all day. Make that week. Scratch. Month. I needed a laugh. It's just too darned bad I am at my desk and can't really let the Sprite fly out of my nose without creating a distraction!
Posted by: Paula Kgier | April 26, 2011 at 03:12 PM
Too darn hilarious! Love these 'real life' stories!!!
Posted by: Andi Sexton | April 26, 2011 at 04:27 PM
The moral of this story is that you should ask the Clerk at the sex store what the stuff in the bottom drawer is or you might miss out on some really fun stuff. Also, don't rule out the backdoor unless you've tried it.
Am I right? Hello?
www.dontmakethatface.com
Posted by: Don't Make That Face | April 26, 2011 at 05:31 PM
That is hilarious.
Truly, truly hilarious.
Posted by: Suniverse | April 26, 2011 at 08:03 PM
Ha! Okay, here's a story. Leading up to Christmas break in college our dorm played a game of Secret Santa. My boyfriend's secret santa delivered a joint. My boyfriend (being oh so very cool) put the thing behind his ear to save for later. Then we went for a ride somewhere in his car. He got pulled over for speeding. Totally forgot about the joint behind his ear until the cop asked him— So where's you get the marijuana? My boyfriend's response— Santa.
He got arrested.
Posted by: Ilana | April 26, 2011 at 08:22 PM
My god that was freaking hilarious!
Posted by: Alison@Mama Wants This | April 26, 2011 at 08:46 PM
HA HA!! I love this story. Actually, I love the way Lori tells a story...and this one is HILARIOUS! :)
Posted by: Katie | April 26, 2011 at 10:35 PM
Now that's just funny!! I LOVE her!! And after working in the insurance world for a few years a long time ago, let me just say, PLEASE TELL US THE STORIES! We loved them! ; ) We didn't write them down, but we did laugh our ass off at them!! Love it!!
Posted by: Wicked | April 26, 2011 at 11:45 PM
Oh, almost perfect.
LOVED this story, Lori tells a story great but what was the OH MY GOD?
The truck?
I need to see a brochure.
ALSO? Loved that you didn't recognize a dang think in the bottom drawer.
Posted by: Alexandra | April 27, 2011 at 12:08 PM
"Harry's House O' Hymens" ...what a great pull from your friend Lori! Bravo!
Not to be confused with the "International House O' Hymens"... or the "IHOH" to you and I. Which is something entirely different (next city over - I believe). :)
Posted by: REscarcega | April 27, 2011 at 02:49 PM
Hee...
For the curious, the "Oh My God" was a reaction to a graphic drawing of nothing particularly out of the ordinary. Not that he was shocked by the image, mind you, only that he didn't expect to open the brochure and find it there.
But when you're opening literature that you've just pulled from a bag that has a tiger-striped vibrator in it, really - what do you expect? I thought it was going to be FAR more interesting. Otherwise I would have kept my eyes on the damn road.
Posted by: Lori | April 27, 2011 at 10:08 PM
Oh dear me...buying a dildo when you are in the produce aisle by the cucumbers seems...what's the word I'm looking for? Redundant?
Hilarious Lori as always.
Posted by: Yuliya | April 28, 2011 at 06:05 PM
I can't believe I haven't heard this story before now. Thanks for the (much needed) laugh!
:D
Posted by: Mom | August 12, 2011 at 01:05 PM
She loved her parents and did not want either of them to have a stroke upon the arrival of a delivery from “Judy’s Juicies” or “Harry’s House O’ Hymens.”
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