I hate to admit it this, but I never feel comfortable visiting my local adult toy and novelty store. It's not that I am a prude-- not by any stretch of the imagination. I just don't like the thought of being spotted by people I know --like former church-going buddies, friends of my ex-husband, co-workers, old boyfriends. To be honest, I guess I just worry too much what people might think.
On my recent trip to New Orleans, my friend and I visited the Hustler store. With almost no chance of running into anyone I know, I shopped with complete freedom. It was exhilarating. And the staff was extremely helpful and friendly.
"Can I demo this for you," one staff member asked?
"No, but thank you anyway." I replied with a smile. Actually I could have used the demo, but I just didn't have the nerve to admit my ignorance about the device. I'm a hands-on sort of learner, anyway.
Another staff member offered me an additional shopping basket because mine was overflowing. She took an item out of my basket.
"Have you tried this in cinnamon," she said. "It's divine!" I decided to take her advice.
If it hadn't been for the black Hustler t-shirts, based on professional courtesy alone, I would have sworn I was in Nordstroms.
Forty-five minutes after beginning the shopping experience, I proceeded to check out. My final total was a whopping $189.
"Are you preparing for a bachelorette party?" the check-out clerk inquired.
"No. I'm just going to store these items in my hope chest," I said sourly.
It was a joke. Based on the sympathetic look I received, I don't think the check-out clerk knew I was teasing. It didn't matter.
With purchases in hand, it was now time to reorganize my luggage in preparation for the trip home. I had not checked baggage going to New Orleans. However with these new goodies in my possession, I decided that carry on was not an option. I had visions of security guards pointing and laughing at the screening monitors. "Whose bag is this?" they would ask. "We need to do a pat down." I'd just keep walking, pretending the matter was of no concern to me.
Checking my luggage turned out to be a smart move after all. The airline had selected me for extra security screening. I chuckled as the guard searched my purse. For once, I had outsmarted Murphy and his damn Law!
In the comfort of my home, I perused my Hustler purchases. Then, I packed them away for another day or night, as the case may be. I hope that my little joke to the check-out clerk doesn't become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Murphy, is still out there, and payback is hell.
Credits
4 comments:
You forgot to mention that I had to twist your arm to check your goodie bag in...you owe me a drink! And don't send murphy my way...he lives at my house most of the time. I am happy to rent him out.
$189 is not too bad to spend there.
I spent that and never even made it to the store :)
Queenie... I believe you *owe me* a drink. Who was out at 1a looking for Ibuprofen for a laid up friend? Maybe why that's why Murphy left me alone this time. He'd been busy with my partner in crime??
Dave - I'm glad to know $189 isn't that bad. I feel a little less shameful now. :-)
I hope amongst your goodies was the infamous Silver Bullet. I'm an advocate. Simplicity is key. It is a bit nerve-racking going in, isn't it? I get icked out with the thought of the carpet in those places and what's lurking in the fibers. Eww.
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