When did the sex shop become a woman’s paradise? Have I been asleep for 10 years?
The other day, curiosity got the better of me and I thought I’d “drop in” to one of the many sex MegaStores which have appeared on highways around town.
Usual drill.
Drove in, parked the car (at the back of the parking lot, out of sight from the main road) and prepared myself to enter one of the sleaziest environments known to man. A true “guys” domain.
I expected blacked out windows, rows and rows of XXX porn. Magazines, videos, novels… I expected shelves full of weed smoking paraphernalia, bongs, pipes, cones etc… I expected an over-weight middle aged man with his hand too far into his pocket reading an anal porn rag as if it were The Times.
Granted, I should have also expected some change. It had, after-all, been many years since I had been in a sex shop. Perhaps a decade. I was thinking maybe GirlOnGirl Action on DVD instead of VHS and more of that disgusting toilet filth my friends send me from time to time. The continued bar-lowering of sexual depravity never ceases to amaze me.
But what I saw as I stepped through those doors almost knocked me over.
It was bright and spacious.
My feet didn’t stick to the carpet.
It was HUGE!
It had EFTPOS!
In the middle there was a checkout with no less than 3 (three) FEMALE attendants. Come to think of it, there were no men working there at all.
I continued into the bowels of this house of sin and took in the scenery. Passing before my eyes were all sorts of costumes, tools and lubricants. Hanging on a wall was a rubber arm with the hand clenched in a tight fist which got me thinking about the type of person who could accommodate such a thing.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to fisting vids. I’ve seen my fair share during my late-night research sessions. What I’m saying is that I have a new-found respect for those who take on the fisting challenge. Seeing an implement like the arm fisty thing puts that “art” into perspective.
Anyways, I made a bee-line for the DVDs. I thought it better to start with what I knew. Tucked in the safety of what was in effect just a smutty Blockbuster, I took some time to look around. But discretely mind… I didn’t want to get caught staring lovingly at the rubber fist by one of the sex-mart ladies.
Then it hit me. My god! Had the world gone mad?
There were a total of about 10 shoppers in the store at that time – and I was the only male. What’s more, I realised that over half of the store consisted of shelves full of dildos… vibrating or otherwise. There was even a “Top 10”display. I wish I could tell you that there were wide-eyed chicks browsing the plastic dicks with sultry abandon. But the truth of the matter was that they were matter-of-factly going about their business as if they bought a different latex phallus every week with their Weet-Bix.
I felt incredibly out of place. Perverted, overly-prudish… overly male.
At that point one of the attendants approached me and asked me if she could help. I turned into fucking mess.
“I err… was just looking at… err”
I looked down at the butt-plugs on the shelf next to me.
“Are you looking for a prostrate stimulator sir?”, she offered friendlily.
Now there’s question you don’t get asked often.
So what did all this mean? Is it a good thing? A million questions were rushing through my head to which I had no real answers.
There was one thing though of which I was sure… The modern chick was not going to lie idle waiting for a man to sweep her up in his arms and make her feel like a women. These days, she is more likely to lay back and make herself feel however she bloody well likes.
And guys, for those of you that still believe in the old “size doesn’t matter” fairytale… you should really feast your eyes on the rubber fist – it’s a doozy!