Steel Drivin’ Man – Part Two

This is Part Two in a series of posts promoting the Grassroots Blogger Book Marketing Campaign to benefit RAINN, the Rape and Incest National Network.
Let me repeat my earlier warning:
If you are:
a) uncomfortable with the topic of sex toys and self-love, or
b) in any way related to me. You know who you are.
… please know that you are reading at your own risk. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Read Part One here

Part Two

“What can I help you find?”
I stood there silently for a moment, without turning around, then carefully slid the Tantric Sex DVD back onto the shelf, took a deep breath and exhaled, “I think I’m in the market for a vibrator.”
The sales clerk was blonde and heavily tattooed. She flashed me a smile and said, “Great, do you have anything specific in mind, or just want me to show you around?”
This was the moment I had been expecting, which was why I had spent countless hours on the Internet preparing myself to be able to talk the talk. I had done my research and was going to convince her that I was no newbie.
“I’ve heard good things about the Pearl Whisper. Do you carry it?”
She seemed a bit surprised, but said, “Oh, definitely – it’s over here.”
It became immediately clear to me that Toys in Babeland needed to add some sort of gauge – like maybe a dollar bill – next to all the photos on their site for scale purposes, because what the saleswoman lugged over to me was the size and shape of a fire hydrant. An opalescent blue fire hydrant with 12 different speeds.
My cover was blown.
“Oh my god! That’s enormous – are you kidding me?!”
She laughed out loud, “Yeah, it gets that reaction sometimes. Let me show you something else.”
She took a very serious, almost clinical approach to showing me around. It was kind of like shopping for a car, as she walked through all the features and functionality, and had me hold each model to test drive it, so to speak, as she cycled through the various settings.
The entire store was humming like a power plant. Suddenly, I felt like Goldilocks in a forest of sex toys. This one was too small, that one too big. This one had no battery life, that one was too loud.
She had no idea how completely uncomfortable I was. I was masterful in my deception. It was just like when I went to Munich in college, not knowing a word of German. I found that if you shouted and pointed with enough authority, people assumed that they were the dumb ones for not being able to understand you.
“Hey!” I yelled. “What’s that one all about? Ohmigod, is that supposed to be a rat?”
“It’s actually a dog.”
“Why does it have claws?”
There were dogs and rabbits and mice and dolphins, and it became very clear to me that I didn’t want anything with a face, let alone claws.
We rolled our eyes and laughed and bonded.
For all the fake confidence I mustered, I could still feel that my cheeks were giving me away. At one point, she picked up one of the models and fiddled with the settings a bit until she found the one she was looking for. She grabbed my hand and placed the vibrator in it.
“There. Feel that? Yeah, that’s the one. Feel the thump, thump, thump?”
I did, but I had assumed it was the vein in my temple about to burst due to the unprecedented levels of blood rushing to my face.
“What’s that?” I pointed, desperate to change the subject.
It looked like one of those clackety-clacker toys you had as a kid – two balls on the end of a string that smacked together, inevitably smashing your fingers.
“Oh – those are for your kegel exercises. You just insert that like a tampon and wear it around all day. Helps build up your muscles, and feels really nice, like a clit piercing.”
“Ah. Mmm hmm. I see.”
I was feeling light-headed, but soldiered on.
“Oh! I know what I want to show you!”
I turned around and she had one more vibrator in her hand. She adjusted this one some more, searching for something. As she walked toward me, I felt a unique sense of pride in my accomplishments. I had held almost every vibrator in the store, learned the proper techniques for the care and maintenance of glass dildos, and discovered the existence of vaginal barbells. I was confident that my level of discomfort had finally reached its plateau.
Looking back on that moment, I now realize just how naïve I was.
[To Be Continued]

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17 Responses to “Steel Drivin’ Man – Part Two”

  1. Tracy Lynn Says:

    *laughing and breathless* Dude, you are AWESOME.

  2. kris dresen Says:

    “Why does it have claws?” killed me dead.
    But damn you and the TO BE CONTINUED! I’m telling your mom!

  3. claire Says:

    The comment interchange between you and your Mom was enough to hold me until tomorrow, but I thank you for making me laugh heartily a 3rd time today.
    Totally impressed you let the clerk help you. Also certain you should use GoodVibes site for reference since they have length and diameter measurements as well as strength and loudness scales for their vibes.
    At least it sounds like a nice store with an informed staff. With any luck, the experience has increased your ability to be suave in a new environment. Next time you go, you’ll give the clerk a wink-nod, and say, “I’ve got it, thanks.”

  4. heather anne Says:

    You’re way better at this than Carrie Bradshaw. And also way funnier.

  5. jenny Says:

    tracy lynn: you gonna crochet me that willona hat now? ;)
    kris: look, this is my one and only shot at sex-blogging. i need to drag it out.
    claire: glad that my emotional trauma is entertaining. ;) but the staff there is awesome – really nice, really helpful.
    heather anne: but she had a lot more stories to tell. and fancy shoes.

  6. Strode Says:

    You kill me.

  7. You can call me, 'Sir' Says:

    “Great, do you have anything specific in mind, or just want me to show you around?”
    I’m not proud of it, but i admit that this is where the bow-chicka-bow soundtrack in my head started playing.

  8. You can call me, 'Sir' Says:

    “Great, do you have anything specific in mind, or just want me to show you around?”
    I’m not proud of it, but i admit that this is where the bow-chicka-bow soundtrack in my head started playing.

  9. shari Says:

    And now, I picture Sir all Joey Tribiani-like, bobbing his head in time with his soundtrack and smirking at his computer screen, then totally mellow-harshed at the “to be continued.”

  10. MOM Says:

    So, OK, I didn’t pay too much attention to your warning because I thought you were just being my lovable trickster Jenny.
    This time I didn’t read the second installment and I sure hope that your brothers, Wally and the Beaver don’t find this blog site. Luckily your dad, Ward Cleaver doesn’t know how to use the computer.
    Love,
    your mom, June

  11. jenny Says:

    strode: trust me… this experience almost killed me, too.
    sir: giggity giggity. (that makes no sense unless you watch family guy)
    shari: i know… he had already opened up a new bottle of harvey’s bristol creme.
    MOM: looks like you won’t be making that mistake again, will you? ;)

  12. Cheryl Says:

    The best sex shop employees are like good waitresses–they always congratulate you on making an excellent choice. That makes it easier, as a customer, to act relaxed and casual, like you really did just order the pasta special.

  13. claire Says:

    You’re putting your emotional trauma on display for the greater good. I dig it. ;)
    Seriously though, that your posts make me laugh, I mean as a high compliment.

  14. jenny Says:

    cheryl: excellent analogy! that must be why she asked me if i wanted to super-size my order. HEYOOOO! i’m here all week, folks! two shows on sunday!
    claire: thank you – really, if i can help just one other person by sharing my experience, then all the trauma will have been worth it. :)

  15. delmer Says:

    I bought a vibrator for a woman friend two Christmases ago (I got her jewelry as well). I remember the sales gal showing me something which led me to wonder why would I buy anything that is larger than even John Holmes’ penis?

  16. jenny Says:

    delmer: both very thoughtful gifts. :)

  17. patricia Says:

    I’ve gone with a couple friends when they gotten their first vibrator. The mortification on their face when the cashier put batteries in the thing to make sure it worked was fantastic. I shouldn’t enjoy it as much as I do but I’m evil like that. :)