I stepped out of the van without thought, but the second my foot hit the pavement the butterflies in my stomach screamed, "Look alive!" and they began their frenzied dance. I looked to my left, to my right, and a car whizzed passed on the street next to us. I felt my cheeks flush in an unconscious wave of shame. "What am I doing here? This is so bad," I told myself with every footstep toward the building.
The door was bright yellow against a large, square, dark building. It was propped open, and as we approached I felt like I was stepping into the Twilight Zone. I just knew I was going to be sucked into another dimension. I made a very brave step through the threshold and suddenly I realized that no, it wasn't "bad", and that I was not doing anything wrong. "I'm an adult, I have lots of experience, my kids are safe and sound, and I may as well enjoy myself," I thought. So it was at that point that I opened my eyes.
The interior was bright, like a hospital bright. No, more like a warehouse bright. Maybe a combination of the two, actually. The walls were tall, and there was sparse decor. I knew at once that this was no Blue Boutique. My first comment spoken aloud to my friend was, "They're not messing around here, are they?"
And then it hit me: for the first time I was in a REAL porn shop. There was no lingerie, no romantic sex games. I didn't see "coupon" books or stripper shoes. This, I realized, was a testosterone saturated covert for men. I, in my skimpy little skirt, was in a strange new territory.
One and a half walls, in addition to at least two rows of shelves, were dedicated to toys. I think I saw The Biggest Dildo EVER. I swear it was about two feet long and had a circumference greater than my two hands together. All I could do was stare in amazement (while imagining the pain) and spew an occasional chuckle.
There were stacks of older VHS pornos, which I guess they were trying to liquidate because they were all priced $2.00. Yes, TWO DOLLARS. Granted, they were all kind of corny and outdated, but porn is porn. If that didn't tickle my fancy then there were thousands of other titles I could choose from. It carried as many DVD's as a Blockbuster, probably. I was continually stunned at the sheer smut and blatant casualness of the whole thing. The other patrons may as well have been shopping at K-mart, for all I knew.
Next I am going to write about the Back Room. Stay tuned.
2 comments:
Grocery stores and Long's Drugs already sell condoms and "personal lubricants" - I look forward to the day when uptight America finally grows up and doesn't have a cardiac (or endless guilt trip) about sexual aids, toys, and erotica.
((I'm not going to get into porn versus smut versus erotica...))
I'm just trying to decide if you were there with a girl or guy as your "friend" and why you were wearing a short skirt. Was this on purpose? I'm gonna go read the next Back Room part.
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