Friday, August 10, 2007

Hand Job In Aisle 3

I was on the Upper East Side this morning, making my way home from a morning swim, when, I passed a Rickys.

Most of you who live in NYC know what Rickys is--purveyor of cosmetics, hair products, toiletries, Halloween costumes, and sex toys.

I generally don't set foot in RIckys unless I'm shopping for Halloween or am feeling the need to manicpanic my hair, which truth be told, I don't do all that often{um, ever}...but I WAS in the market for a new pocket rocket, as my sole BOB {battery operated boyfriend} resides with Beehive, which doesnt really do me much good when I'm home, so.

I made a beeline for the back of the store, where the "adult novelties" are sold. I love how this section is cordoned off by a curtain of some sort. In fact, this morning, I was truly pleased by it. I do not have a problem purchasing sex toys, and if I'm at a place such as Toys in Babeland, where the sole purpose of going there is because you're in need of an anal tickler or a whip, and there's no pretense as to why you're there, I'm perfectly comfortable with that. But for some reason, buying things for my vagina at Rickys felt sorta dirty, and not in a good way. But dammit, I couldn't go one more day without a new pocket rocket.

Once behind the curtain, I had a field day checking out the latest in vibrator technology--I finally settled on a new, silent version of the pocket rocket, which will "cum" in handy what with nosy neighbors and all...I also grabbed some other "supplies" that will hopefully be useful over the weekend.

I approached the register hesitantly, but there were no other customers and only one woman behind the counter, so I relaxed a little and tried to be as nonchalant as possible. It all seemed to go without a hitch...

...then a large southern woman, who appeared to be the manager, showed up at the counter and asked in a booming twang "DO YOU ALL NEED SOME BATTERIES FOR THAT?" This is when I noticed the GORGEOUS hunk of man meat standing to my right. "YOU CAN ALWAYS USE EXTRA BATTERIES" she winked.

I glanced over at the man meat and hoped he wasn't paying attention. Oh, he was.

"No batteries. I'm good" I stammered.

I brought my attention back to the register, where I noticed some additional commotion. The cashier did not appear to know what one of the items was, and yelled out "What IS THIS?" while holding it up for the entire store to see.

"Oh hon, that's a TICKLER" Large southern woman yelled across the counter. "It came from the SEX SECTION"

"What's it for?" the cashier demanded to know, still holding it like a torch.

Thankfully, the most annoying of women walked in at that moment and drew all attention away from me, my tickler, and the fact that everyone, including hunky man meat, was assuming that I was going home, alone, to my sad apartment full of cats, to wank off.

7 comments:

The Cajun Boy said...

wait...what's wrong with wanking off in an apartment full of cats?

i like cheese said...

Hahaha. Nothing, as far as I'm concerned!

SarahLeigh said...

Oh the pocket rocket. how I love it. In my masturbatory history (10 years now) I've had five of them. It's like buying the same brand of laundry detergent. Stick with what you know, at least for a day to day routine.

l3 said...

please tell me that this DID NOT really happen... please tell me that the people who work in stores and sell such items - items placed behind a curtain - are trained to NOT make a big deal about it...

i guess this is why we venture to the 'real' stores when we can, huh?

Ha Ha Sound said...

Yeah, I'm surprised that the people behind the counter were so obtrusive (is that a word?). Seems like their livelihood depends upon being quiet and discreet.

I went into one of those places with a girlfriend once when we were drunk, and we decided to buy her some kind of sexy costume. Unfortunately, she got into a 20 minute conversation with another couple about what kinds of outfits are best. Oh, the embarrassment.

i like cheese said...

SarahLeigh--the pocket rocket is nice and convenient, but there are so many other cool BOBs out there...my goal is to try them all.

L3--yea, it really happened. I guess the Upper East Side Ricky's Sex Section doesn't get much action..zing!

The people behind the counter were pretty young, and didn't seem like the brightest crayons in the box...one of the girls, instead of taking care of customers, spent the entire time I was there checking herself out in the mirror, mesmerized that her curly hair had gotten curlier after being out in the rain, and had made sure to announce it to all who would listen. So, you know, I'm not surprised at their, er, ignorance! :)

Colleen said...

This sounds a lot like convos at my former job in the porno office. Sans the embarassment.