A Surprisingly Sane Blog

I’ve spent enough of my life being brainwashed that sex and everything sex-like is evil and dirty and disgusting and bad and, well, you get the picture.  So now I am, at the ripe old age of 27 and two kids later, rebelling against what I was taught and laughing as I do it.  Guilt-free.  Courtesy of Prozac and all the therapy I have to go through to become somewhat human.

As part of that rebellion, it’s no secret that my sister and I made a trip to Fascinations to pick up Valentine’s day goodies for our guys.  She’s a bit of a recovering brainwashed victim as well, however I think (or at least hope) that she copes a bit better than I do.

Now, this was most certainly not my first time in a sex-toy shop.  In fact, my high school best friend actually got us kicked out of one way-back-when (whole other story).  But it was probably the first time that I ever got over my own embarrassment of actually being surrounded by elephantitis-infected dildos long enough to take a look around me.

And man, was it a little weird.

There were the frat boys, of course, obnoxiously laughing at the fake penises that they only WISH they resembled.  The middle-aged computer geek with zero muscle tone, scraggly hair, and glasses that made his eyes the size of dimes (you know, the real-life 40-year-old virgin) checking out a raunchy-looking porn DVD.  The group of three barbie-looking fake-tanned blonds, exclaiming a little too loudly over the bachelorette party favors.  The skinny young chick, completely at ease looking at the vibrators and carrying a naughty school-girl outfit.  You know, the regulars.

Then there was the middle-aged, completely normal-looking man carrying a whip, bondage accessories, and a totally embarrassed expression.  The man kept looking at me, probably wondering what kind of freak in bed would be holding the things I was standing in line with.

Or maybe he was was worried that someone would know he was cheating on his wife with a young hot thing.

And all the while, I was wondering how the people who work there cope with being around sex all day long.  How can they possibly look at the people in the checkout line carrying handcuffs and cock rings and body whip and not have nightmares about the serial-rapist-looking-guy buying a thong and anal beads?

Current Mood: Mischievous

Tags: Sex

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 19th, 2009 at 2:10 pm and is filed under Confessions, Religion. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.