Sunday, November 17, 2013
Getting rid of my sex toys
I saw a column in The New York Times a while back by a woman urging older people to get rid of their sex toys before they die so said toys are not found afterwards by their children. Who will be embarrassed.
"Look, Timmy, Mom sure had a big dildo, didn't she?"
Or, "Is this garter and stocking thing Dad's?"
Or, "Sis, I just can't picture Mom shoving this up her butt."
I actually feel the opposite. I don't have any sex toys. But now that I'm getting older, I may get some just to give the impression that I had a tumultuous sex life. I want to appear rakish, daring, uninhibited. I want them to whisper things about me. I want them to be envious. Awed.
"Gosh, he must have had a lot of wild sex in here! Look at this box labeled, Handcuffs. Don't lose key! And this leather mask! Wait, there's a note under it: Too small. See if can exchange for Large and a knitted scarf."
"Oh, look over here! Is this ring for what I think it's for? Whoa."
"I didn't know you could buy condoms in bulk. But look at this tub from Costco!"
So, hand me that "Sex Toys R Us" catalog. I'll make them think I was the Marquis de Sade, Warren Beatty and Frank Sinatra all rolled up in one.