Totally Tasteless Tuesday

I traveled to Victoria, Texas, this past weekend and discovered her secret. I also found out that all this recession talk is a bunch of balderdash. Or maybe Victoria, Texas, is just recession proof.

For those faint of heart, stop reading NOW. One more sentence will be too late. Way too late. Ya see, I went to Victoria to attend a sex toy party with our Intimacy Advisor (yes, that’s what her business card says) Mandy.

In all my days I’ve never heard of a sex toy party and I’m 63-years old. But then again maybe that’s why I haven’t heard of them. Age apparently limits invitations to such things. I was the oldest woman there and made a valiant effort not to burst into laughter at such terms as “Shake hands with your….”

No, I can’t even say it or I'll break into side-splitting laughter again and my body still hurts from laughing so hard the other night. Use your imagination to finish the sentence but try to control your hysteria! After you reach a certain age, people are always watching you, wondering when they should call the family lawyer and have you committed.

So I maintained my composure through demonstrations of animal-named sex toys, such as the Dancing Dolphin, the Turtle Frenzy, the Rabbit Habit, and the Jack Rabbit, and through veggie- and flower-named toys, Pretty in Pink Pineapple, Tempting Tulip, and the Magic Mushroom. But it was a struggle. I found myself vibrating, so to speak, with internal laughter, especially when told how positions that come naturally during intimate moments now have names. The Backwards Cowboy, for example. Who knew?

We also learned there are all kinds of bullets - the plain Bullet, the Double Bullet, the Beaming Bullet, the Maxi Bullet, and the Mini Bullet - which was quite interesting to me since IT Guy and I had just spent the day jumping from one gun shop to another, looking for a certain gun and I didn’t see any of those bullets advertised. He did, however, find and buy THE gun that he’s been looking for all over Texas.

There was also the Pretty in Pink Bullet which I thought went with the pink .22 but our young hostess corrected me. By this time her mother, my friend Ann, had long since gone to bed, for which I was grateful because the ladies were about to receive a demonstration of the Backwards Cowboy, a not-to-be missed event but one which would have thrown Ann into heart failure if she had viewed it.

So after we had fondled and sprayed, rubbed and sniffed, and placed and replaced batteries in unending order, we got to the buying part. Which of these little gems would each of the lovely single and married party goers want to take home….

We never got to know. Apparently that’s Victoria's secret. Our intimacy advisor took each goer into the master bedroom one at a time to take their order in private. After all that sharing, all that intimacy, we would never know who preferred which sex toy. But we would get to know how much money they spent, since the hostess gets a gift based on the total dollar amount.

Let’s just say that in Victoria, Texas, there is no recession, only secrets.