Thursday, June 23, 2011

"this is my favourite..."

I found myself in a sex shop last night.
Not that this was my first, but not that I'm a regular customer.
It was a mix of curiosity getting to this little cat and maybe a little sugar rush. And okay maybe I've been secretly waiting to be outside one when someone says "I've always wanted to go in there...". Strength in numbers, buddy system and all.

It wasn't the classiest of shops, I'm not sure if that's something they're going for but I feel if I owned one I'd make it classy. More of a boutique than something with boarded up windows and a complimentary (and necessary) bottle of hand sanitizer on the way out.

I was with a friend and besides the shop clerk (a friendly girl with too many past-the-point-of-closing-over facial peircings) we were the only people there. With all the anatomically correct body parts though it felt like we weren't alone, but as two thirds of the people in there making noise without the press of a button ("this one has multiple speeds") we tried to keep our comments to silent nods and knowing looks.

Something about the subject of the store had me moving at a faster pace than my curiosity would like, but at the same time I knew too long of a linger is an open door to an awkward sales pitch that I didn't have the desire to deflect without seeming prude-ish (prunish).
But when the linger came and I actually picked something up, the eagerness in the sales pounce was enough to scream "FINALLY NOT A MAN I CAN SELL-TALK TO WHO WON"T BE LOOKING DOWN MY SHIRT AND ASKING IF I MODELED FOR THE PRODUCT HES ABSENT-MINDEDLY STROKING". On the other hand it had me wishing I had done my research. I'm not one who goes out looking for a face to face lecture on the pros and cons of one vibrator versus another. I also was not in a place where I was mentally, emotionally or physically prepared to have another female pass me a vibrating replica of a certain male piece of anatomy into my hand and look into my eyes expectantly for my reaction and comments.
I feel like I held my own though, curious without being too pervy or waaay to personal, interested without misleading her into empty hopes of a sale.

Then, with our curiosity filled, and maybe one or two things added to the wish list, we made our excuses of melting slushies waiting in the car, and made our retreat.