Monday, January 28, 2013 was a tragic day. One that will live on in infamy for as long as I shall live. That was the day that I opened the bathroom door after my typical morning shower, only to discover my dogs had turned B.O.B. (my battery operated boyfriend), into their new favorite chew toy. I silently mourned our parting as I cursed my naughty puppies, and gently laid BOB to rest in the trash can. He was a good friend, and will be sorely missed.
Melodramatics aside, this event was seriously depressing. When you are a fabulously single lady, there are certain things in life that are an absolute necessity… a good vibrator is one of them. After pouring out my woes to her via text, my friend Amber tried to console me with the following-
“…Could just be a new texture…lol.”
“Yeeaahh… not really a fan of ‘cheese grater’.”
When informed that my dog ate my mechanical playmate, my friend Jordan’s response was not quite as helpful-
“Oh my god! Is he ok?! Does he vibrate?!”
For those of you who are wondering, yes, the dogs are fine… I wish I could say the same about my libido.
The only good thing about the whole situation was the timing, for it just so happened that the Saturday after BOB’s demise was my kick off for February, my “Superbowl” so to speak of sexuality month- a PureRomance ladies night. I guess if you want to look at it from a more positive perspective, (which I am trying really hard to practice more often), maybe this was the Universe’s way of saying “Girlfriend, you need an upgrade!”
This whole adventure year is about trying new things and pushing the boundaries of my comfort zone, and one thing I have never had the pleasure of doing is attend an adult toy party. I have been invited to several, but for whatever reason was never able to go, so I decided to throw my own sexy soiree.
I have to say ladies- if you’ve never gone to a party like this then you need to add it to your “to-do” list asap. It makes for a fantastic evening. (Sorry gentlemen, no boys allowed due to solicitation laws. I know, I know, this is sexist and grossly unfair…here’s a tissue, get over it.) I had a great turnout, 12 women including myself, yummy food, alcoholic beverages for those who were able to partake, good conversation, and a gun case full of sex toys! No seriously, she carried the vibrators in a gun case. If you don’t believe me, here is photographic evidence…
|Imagine getting pulled over with this bad boy in your backseat!|
Maiya, our consultant, was awesome. She made it so funny and entertaining; I actually learned a lot. Like the fact that you can apparently have a “nipple orgasm.” Who knew?! As the evening wore down and everything was said and done, between money I saved up for the occasion, and the money I earned from the party’s sales for being the hostess, I was able to get almost $200 in new goodies! (Needless to say I was able to get several replacements for dearly departed BOB…)
After all the other guests left, Amber and I met up with some guy friends to go dancing. As a mom with a young child, Amber doesn’t get many free evenings, so we decided to make the most of it, and made our way downtown to Skully’s where we could shake our groove thing. I haven’t been dancing in a long time, in fact, I think the last time I went dancing was for a Bachelorette party in 2009. Now, I recognize that means I haven’t been to a club in almost four years, but I didn’t think the rules of etiquette had changed THAT much. So either things have changed, or the men at Skully’s are absolute cretins, I’m not sure which.
For example, since when has it ever been okay for a strange man to sneak up behind a woman, grab her uterus and grind their junk all up in her business? When did we go from, “Hi, can I buy you a drink?” to silent, surprise, derriere molestations? I know some women like this, I am not judging I promise, but one of the things I recognized I needed to do from the outset of this project, and have been trying very hard to accomplish, is to love and respect myself, mind, body, and soul. With that being said, I personally do not appreciate people violating my personal space without my explicit permission. If you are a total stranger, don’t fucking touch me unless you want me to break you in half like a twig. I had to wrest a couple of morons off my backside at several points throughout the night, and came very close to elbowing one in the face, who felt it was necessary to grab my nether-regions from behind. (Thanks to Kung Fu I could have punched him eight different ways!) Fortunately for him, peeling his fingers off and giving a firm “No thanks,” was all that was needed. However, I was subjected for at least another five minutes to comments such as, “Damn gurl! Shake that thang…Mmmhmm! Yeah, that’s the stuff…” as Mr. Gropey Hands watched me from the bar several feet away. Nothing like sexual harassment to make you feel like a real lady. It seriously reminded me of the Dane Cook comedy skit about guys at the club (if you’ve never heard it before check it out here).
I left the club feeling slightly dejected. Where has chivalry gone? My standards might be pretty high, but I don’t think it’s unrealistic to expect a man to treat you with respect as a human being, rather than a piece of meat that is simply there for his amusement. How would they like it if someone treated their mothers, sisters, or daughters that way?
Maybe someday I will meet a man who, when he looks at me, doesn’t just see a pretty face or “assets,” but sees me, down to my soul and truly understands me from the inside out. Someone who is respectful and kind, loving, empathetic, sexy and supportive. Someone who I will actually want plastered to my side. Someone where personal boundaries stop being so much of an issue, and “my space” becomes “ours.” Maybe someday he will make an appearance. I hope he does, with every fiber of my being, I truly hope he does…
But on the bright side, at least for the interim I have a BOB replacement. T.O.M (my triple orgasm machine, haha) will keep me busy until Mr. Right does decide to waltz into my life and into my waiting arms…
|Really crappy picture of Amber and me at the club. It’s just bad lighting, I promise you we weren’t in the red light district!|