My Own Trip to the (Adult) Toy Store

What i started to write about yesterday was my own first trip to the adult store – but i got sidetracked talking about toys that had been picked out by someone else and given to me.  Which is not exactly the same thing.

So, going back to yesterday’s story – maybe you’ve stayed in a relationship after you were pretty sure it needed to be over.   And you’re trying to figure out how to make it work, but it’s uncomfortable all the time.  That’s how it was for about a year with me and B, my second husband.  i kept thinking we might work it out, and i began to feel like i was walking around with a big weight on my body, and i kept trying not to slow down my life or buckle under it, but you know… it’s hard.  It was a long, cold year, and my libido quietly slipped into hibernation.

So when we separated, the weight lifted like a balloon, and it didn’t take long for me to begin to – i think to reclaim my life.  Redefine who i am.  And magically, amazingly, my libido began to lift her head again and look around.

i think it was the same day i decided to pick my own last name.  You know, at that point in my life, i’d had a maiden name, my first married name, and now i was on my second married name.  i’d only been married three years, i didn’t want to be Ms. His Last Name the rest of my life.  But it didn’t make sense to go back to my first married name, even though i’d been that for about 25 years.  And i sure didn’t want to go back to my maiden name – that was too long ago in a different universe.

So,  for many reasons, i decided to take my mother’s maiden name as my last name.   It was a beautiful spring day, i was excited about the decision.  i’d just had a meeting that went well, and had a few hours to kill before i had to be anywhere else.  So, feeling all happy and empowered, i thought, “i think i’ll go buy a vibrator.”

And i giggled.  My heart rate sped up a little.  i was really going to do this!

i knew where one adult bookstore was downtown.  The one with the french maid’s outfits, corsets and garter belts in the window.   Sun roof open, music blasting, i headed for it.

i have a cute car – not exactly a sports car, but it’s electric blue and it has the sun roof, and it’s apparently kind of hot.   When it’s just washed, and i stop for gas, strange men sometimes walk by and say admiringly, “Nice car!”   It happened often when it was new; i used to call it my stud magnet.   And the bumper stickers on the back make it distinctively mine. 

So i was a little worried as i pulled into the parking lot next to the adult bookstore.  You know, i live in the Bible belt, even if it an urban area.  At one time, people were camping out across the street, videotaping who went into adult stores.

But i shrug that off and lift my head as i get out of the car.  What ever happens, i think, i’ll just brazen it out.  There’s no law against being here.

And i enter the store.

O, my!

You know, for me, it was a little bit like my first trip to the public play space.  Omigosh.  So many toys and costumes and movies and stuff… And i want to look at everything, and i don’t want to gawk.  i want to look sophisticated and confident, and some  of these things are kind of scary.

It’s morning, and there’s no one else in the store.  i’m grateful for that.  The young man behind the counter has green spiked hair and a nose ring.  He calls out to me across the exapanse of the store, “Hi!  Come on in!  Do ya need any help?”

i shake my head, and smile, “no, just looking.”  i can see a big room with walls and walls of – stuff.  It’s also out of sight – i can take a minute to get my bearings unwatched, away from the showcase windows.  i head for the back.

There is a vast wall of dildoes and vibrators and fake pussys (ok, i didn’t even know they had those!)  All colors and shapes and sizes and types and – omigod.  i’m grinning.  All this.  And i can just stand here as long as i want until i find exactly the one i want. ..

i giggle – trying to stifle the sound.  Omigod.  Is this really me? 

O, yes, i tell myself.  It’s definitely me.  And i lift my head a little.  Still smiling, i start my search.

i actually start at one end of the wall and work my way up, take packages down to examine them, read all the features as i go.  By the time i get to the end of the wall, i’ve got a better idea of the options, i’m narrowing down my choices.  i go back to the beginning and start over, doing some mental comparisons of features.  Still smiling.

Omigod, yes, it really is me doing this.

i was back there so long, the young guy behind the counter came to check on me.  He was smiling.  “Lot to choose from,” he said.

i nodded, “O, yeah.”

“You got any questions, anything i can help you with?”

i face him, trying not to giggle, “No, that’s ok, i’m just – i’m just gonna look til i find the right one.”

He smiles, “You take your time.  It’s important to find the right one!  And it’s not like you can bring these back if you find out you got the wrong one.”

“Exactly, ” i say.  “It’s almost as hard as picking a man.”

He laughs, “You got that right!  But at least you know what you’re getting.  You just take your time, i’m out here if you need me.”  And he strolls away.

i’m looking and comparing models, and thinking.  Just taking my time, still smiling to myself.  There is something sensual about the experience.   i feel intensely aware of my body, a little tingly.  i hear someone come in, a young couple, then a man, but i’m undisturbed.

Finally, finally, i find the right one.  It’s not perfect, it’s blue, and i didn’t want one that was a fake color, i wanted flesh color, but it’s the right size and shape and has the features i want.  And it’s not pink.  i definitely don’t want a pink one – (if you love pink penises, feel free to skip this part.)  i want a masculine presence in my bed, and it seems strange to me that people would want a girly cock.  i know, that’s not right, it’s just how i feel about it.  And since i’m thinking there may not ever be a real man in my bed again, i want a fake cock that looks as real as possible.  And then, as i say that to myself, i try not to giggle outloud.

So i take my package with the almost perfect blue cock to the register.  My friend with the green hair and the nose ring is talking to another man, a little bit older man.  They stop talking, nod at me.  i hand him the package, feeling like i might blush,  just  a little. 

“O, this is a good one,” he says, and – much to my surprise – starts to open it.   He notices – and grins, as he opens it and puts some batteries in it.  “Got to test it before you go,” he says, “if you want me to.  Remember if you get it home and it doesn’t work, you can’t bring it back.”

“O,” i’m delighted, “Ok, go ahead.”  And i’m only three-fourths embarrassed as he turns it on and he and i and the older man watch it do its thing.  i’m trying to keep a straight face.

“Oooooh, that’s a nice one,” my green haired friend says again, and – don’t ask me why – i feel like i’ve been given a stamp of approval.  i’m smiling, and the other guy is smiling too, and we all chat a little bit as my purchase is stuffed back in the package. 

He rings up the sale, and asks do i want to buy some batteries there?  And i think they’ll probably cost twice as much as they would at the regular store,  and i don’t care.  It makes a statement, i think, so i say, “Absolutely, throw in some batteries,” and they both smile and nod, like they knew i’d say that, cause i’m just that kind of throw-caution-to-the-wind kind of woman.  {Laughing}

The older man makes a few comments, nothing inapprorpriate, but just the least bit flirty.  And for a minute, i feel incredibly sexy.  Not like the kind of woman who hasn’t had sex for a year.  Like i’m the kind of woman who has lots of toys at home, and uses them at my whim, and maybe could choose men the same way.  Do you know what i mean? 

So when i walk out of the store, with my discreet package, i’m smiling and feeling good and confident and happy.  Parked in front of the store are several cabs.  The drivers are out of the cars, hanging out, talking as i go by.  i notice one who looks Persian, an African-American man, and a couple of white men.  As i head for my car, i hear one of them say,

i swear i’m not making this up, he says,

“See!  There’s one of them party girls now.  She’s one of them party girls.”

And i don’t look back, but i’m grinning, cause there i am, fifty something years old, and really?  “One of them party girls?”  As i get in my car, i start to laugh.  i can’t help smiling at them as i drive by, cause, you know, that’s how us party girls are.