My visit to the sex shop

Yesterday was my birthday and it was a “milestone” one at that. It was the day that Sexy Old Broad is officially old. Sad, ain’t it? At the end of a long day of shopping, what should we see on the side of the road but a big sign for an adult shop. What the heck, why not? We don’t have anything adult in our small town so in we went.

Now I’m not going to tell you that I wave to people as I walk into a sex shop. No, I’m of an age where nice women didn’t go to those places, but heck, times have changed. I take responsibility for my own sexuality and I wanted a new toy. It WAS my birthday yesterday, remember? I’m good at dragging it out as long as I can. Anyway, I digress.. We got out of the car and instead of just clicking the lock button once, my dear one decides to do it again and the car started HONKING. Right.. enough people didn’t see me walk in.

We were greeted by a hulk of a man wearing a red t-shirt and jeans and a big smile. He showed us the section of toys that were 20% off and we started browsing. I kept looking around at the other people in the shop.. ok, I’m a voyeur at heart. There was one guy looking at the dvds. There were tons of them all sorted by interest. There was also a blow up doll with “three active holes”. From my vantage point I could only see her mouth but the whole thing looked like a big flesh colored garbage bag that someone had blown up and painted a face on. I swear I need to help more people find dates so they don’t have to fuck a plastic bag!

We didn’t find much in the discount department so we moved on. Now tell me, what sort of person sits in his living room (or hers) and says to herself:

“Well, I’m all alone tonight, I think I’ll shove a 2′ fake hand up inside me for kicks.” ??

I mean really. Or those HUGE dildoes with the tops of balls the size of melons. What is wrong with a normal sized piece of equipment? It’s kept us happy for generations upon generations.

Ok, so I’ll admit that we found a toy we liked and went to the sales counter and the guy in the red shirt leans over and says, “Do you need any lube? I’ve got the best stuff made — right here. Here.. put some on your finger.”

Ok, I’ve got this really slippery stuff on my finger and I say, “Ok, I’ll take some.”

Now what do I do with the slippery stuff that’s now on my finger and my thumb? Somehow I was embarrassed asking for a tissue in a sex shop. I know what they do in places like that. They had tiny rooms for rent in there, I saw them. The sign said Private Internet Rooms with broadband. Uh huh. I bet they provide tissues in there too.

Back to the lube.. My new best friend in the red shirt says, “What size?” Then picks up a rather large tube of the stuff and said, “This should last you a year.”

I looked at my husband and said, “Oh, you don’t know us.. that wouldn’t last US more than a month.” My husband wasn’t impressed.

On the way out of the store I had to pass the display of penis drinking straws, boob shaped pasta and penis shaped lipsticks and magnetic boobs for your fridge. Who buys this crap? I was told that men buy them and a lot of it. The sales guy seemed offended that I was making fun. Making fun? I was rolling my eyes.

I’ve never visited anyone’s home with small boobs stuck to the refrigerator or known anyone who listens to a radio in the shape of boobs. Volume on the left, tuning on the right. My mission is to find someone who has them and have them committed.