SHOCK VALUE

This afternoon I was giving my friend Donna a ride to the train station on the way she asked me to take her to the sex store in town. Now, as much as you might not believe this, I don’t usually frequent sex stores. Indeed I have only ever been to sex stores in Amsterdam, Frankfurt, Portland, and Houston. But now that I actually see those locations in a list it would seem that I travel the world visiting sex stores, which I don’t. But before this hole caves in on me allow me to continue…

Donna wanted to drop by the store quickly so she could find an outfit for work (needless to say she’s not a school teacher or a nun). I was going to stay in the car so as to encourage her to not waste and thus allow me to get on with the rest of my day. However, my curiosity got the better of me so I decided to join her into the store.

In a sex store, ones shockability regulator has to be cranked up to its highest tolerance level. Such places are a moral minefield for the masses, and and eye opening education that often leaves you wishing you had left your eyes tightly closed.

I like to think I’m an open minded chap, but such stores always leave me feeling like a happy clapper Christian blissfully unaware of life beyond the church doors. If our life’s sins were measured on a scale of 1 to 10, then ironically sex stores make me feel like I’m still only on a three or maybe a four.

Behind these blacked out windows I realize that there are a whole host of sins that not only have I not yet committed, but I simply have no desire to commit them! This is perhaps good news for my soul, though if visiting a porno store makes you feel virtuous it could be suggested your moral barometer is a little off.

As Donna browsed the various slinky things that go by the economic model of ‘less is more’, I decided to take a look at what the little store had to offer the would be shopper. I chuckled to myself at the various range of inflatable dolls on offer wondering who the heck would buy such a thing. Surely if times were bad enough that you were considering the ‘love’ of an inflatable companion, wouldn’t you buy it online and have it shipped in a discreet unmarked package? In fact, this thought crosses my my mind as I look at many of the things of the shelves.

At the moment I came across a large box containing an inflatable sex doll called ‘Fatty Potter.’ I began feeling too much like a raincoat wearing deviant, so I retreated back to the relative safety of Donna’s company that somehow made my presence here feel legitimate. Just then I spotted a range of dildo’s that were surely a joke.



I Drew Donna’s attention to the huge black sex toys which, like me, she looked at in disbelief. She exclaimed, in more detail than was required, that she wouldn’t be overly comfortable even attempting the use of such devices. As she held the ‘Anal Grenade’ package in her hands I couldn’t help wonder how one would bring up the idea of introducing a “Anal Grenade” or “Butt Buster” into ones bedroom activities?

Laughing at the ridiculous nature of the toys Donna then turned her attention to the amusingly named ‘War Head’, an impossibly large penis shaped dildo that comes with a set of free dog tags!? (I’m not even going there in my mind!)

“Do you actually sell any of these?” Donna asked clerk who looked more like a prayer group leader than what you might imagine a sex store clerk to look like. “Actually, since we got them we’ve sold quite a lot of that range… all to guys.”

And there it was, another shock.



Read more: http://www.beforeiforget.co.uk/2007/shock-value/#ixzz1Is58jhgl
SHOCK VALUE