In this grandiose act of bravado, Diane Cresswell shares a memoir of her visit to a “Toy Store” where she pouted and panted, “No petite pumps for me,” she pled as she perused a plethora of prideful protuberances, then painstaking picked the perfect pleasingly plump purple plastic pecker and promptly proceeded to purchased it. However, despite her patient, persistant prodding and pleading, the panicked proprietor proclaimed, “You can’t have that. That’s my thermos!”
(Diane texted me and told me this story would make me laugh so hard that I’d pee, and as you can see, she was right. I’ve p-ed all over this pleasant piece of prose.)
It’s not often that a person will share a story that wraps back on themselves as this story does on her. But I’m really glad she sent this story to us for the “Make Me Laugh” Non-Competition. I don’t know about y’all, but I’m havin’ a good time with these stories.
Tell your mama and your daddy and the little bitty baby at your breast about this fun site and non-competition game we’re playin’. Somebody wake Mac Egan up and tell him he’s missin’ out on all this fun. We need more stories to fill the time until Thorn gets back from the Mother Country.
So, that being said, here’s Diane Cresswell’s story…….
Fifteen Minutes of Fame
by Diane Cresswell
Sitting around one day visiting with my girlfriend in Vegas indulging in the usual girl talk, out of the blue she asked me if I had ever been in a sex shop! That stopped my lungs from working!
“Uh…why do you ask?”
Her eyes rolled around in their sockets at my question.
“Well have you?”
Hmmm…was this a trick question?
“Ah yah I have actually.”
“There’s this one close to downtown and I want to go see it.”
She stared at me with her piercing eyes. Now my friend Marcia is ballsy which is the only way I can describe her attitude. If she gives you “THE LOOK” – let’s just say I have seen grown men start to quiver, then turn and run. With a shake of her long curly hair looking downward she quietly said, “I’m scared to go alone.”
Well smack me silly with a laughing hyena, that one I hadn’t expected.
“Okay, let’s go right now!”
We jumped into the car and headed for the wrong side of the tracks, if there is such a thing in Sin City, and found this place under an overpass.
I blazed through the door into the “sex shop” finding myself enveloped in stereotypical low lights with lots of black curtains, ambiance of a D movie, red lights blinking, sexual toys of dizzying numbers, costumes if one could call them bare-ly costumes, paraphernalia that defied description, and the intense disturbing quiet of a morgue! Once my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I saw a few people scattered around the place looking seriously at various objects while attempting not be seen. I did a 360 checking out the sex arena. Smiling, I felt a bit like Robin Williams wanting to break the intimidating silence (greetings vaginas and sperms) that filtered through every crack and crevice of the place. Instantly I knew what I had to do – it was show time.
Marcia and I are really good friends and we both have perverted minds…we have to come up to the gutter to be with others. So I was a little dumbfounded at the look on her face. It was total speechlessness with big uncomprehending eyes a la Red Riding Hood. Duh…sex shop!!! Where’s the sense of humor?
I spotted a display of dildos in a fantastic array of shapes, sizes and colors that staggered even my mind. Some even had fairy dust in them otherwise known as sparkles. Jeez Louise – what a sight!
“Did those dildos come from over the rainbow? Wow, somebody must have had a really bad hair day or was on a psychedelic drug or both designing these!” Yes, I said that out loud.
Marcia’s head snapped up with terror in her eyes. Off to the side I saw a couple of people go into the freeze position.
“And why would anyone put sparkles in them? Is anyone going to see these in the dark? Oh wait – the sign says they glow in the dark! Ummm…I see something you can’t!” (I did that in a sing-song voice.)
Checking further I found and held up two dildos side by side.
“Would you look at these – this one has a turtle on top of it and this one has a rabbit. Wonder what they do?” Then I turned them on!
“Oh man this is wild – they have moving tongues. Hey Marcia, lookie, it’s the battle of the dueling tongues! And they vibrate too!!” I thought she was going to faint.
Next thing I saw was a big glass case hanging on the wall. I breathed out a few words of awe coming in for a closer look…”OH MY FAIRY GODMOTHER, Marcia loooook at these – they’re gee-mo-nellie sized! Who do you suppose they got to model for these? King Kong or Murphy? Can’t have been much fun putting the handle into hot wax for a mold!!!”
After that remark, Marcia disappeared, but I could see the guy behind the counter watching me. I walked over and asked: “So what’s behind the curtains sir? Is this where we change to try on the costumes?” He started coughing, well gagging really for he was taking a drink of water or whatever was in his cup. At that moment, a man came through the front door, well to be accurate, he was pretending to be the invisible man. He sneaked through the door, slithered around the wall projection and disappeared behind the curtain.
“Hey he doesn’t have a costume to try on? Where’s he going? What’s behind curtain #2?”
The clerk had a look on his face that stated rather clearly he thought I could very well be from another planet. I decided telling him I was wouldn’t help. Got the feeling he wanted me to walk away quietly. I did – but I didn’t go quietly. I demurely asked where the whips and chains were. He just pointed.
Marcia was still in hiding so I went to check on the whips, chains, handcuffs, and other gadgets for the S&M aficionados wondering what delectable and disturbing things I would find. The possibilities of one liners were endless.
“Marcia,” I yelled. “Is dominatrix spelled with a small d or a capital D? Isn’t this what you do?”
Nothing! What I see before my eyes is nothing less than a crazed scene out of some bondage movie. How the hell did they get the mannequin to look like she was in the throes of titillating delight?
“Oh lordy, will you look at these leather ankle chain holders with nipple rings? Really could have used these on the Terminator! Bet he couldn’t have gotten out of these puppies!! And the whips…oh be still my heart! Marcia can I get two whips?”
Again…nothing. I did hear some snickering though. Better go find her.
“There you are!” My friend started to shake. “What’s this stuff here?”
I picked up a display bottle and tipped it.
“Holy crap Cat Woman, this is disgusting. It looks like all these bottles are filled with liquid snot! Eeewwww this stuff is gross…and they’re flavored!!! Oh my god they have one in CHOCOLATE!!!! You have got to be kidding? That’s so not right!!”
I put the bottle back down. “What demented purpose do you use this creepy stuff for anyway? Halloween? Wait a minute…label says lubricant. Is this used for cars????”
I hear laughter, but not from Marcia! Just watched her eyeballs roll back into her head!
I go back to the dildos again, grab one and saunter up to what passes for a gentleman (loose terminology) behind the counter.
“Sir, ah can you help me? I’m not sure what size to buy.”
Holding up the dildo, I ask, “Is this a good one? Also, can you tell me which ones are the most popular? What style would you recommend? Oh…and do they come with instructions and a warranty of satisfaction?”
Marcia comes up behind me, grabs my arm and marches me out of the shop. Spoil sport! She walks ahead of me mumbling words I can’t make out.
“What did you say?”
I said I’m NEVER going to take you with me again! EVER!!!!”
I looked at her and smiled.
“Why are you smiling?”
I shrugged my shoulders…in leaving I had noticed that the penetrative morgue style quiet had been replaced with laughter and talking. Yah, that was fun!