I'm really excited about my next trip to Vegas. It's the town where I hobby, I usually come twice a year, and two or three times when I'm there; for the rest of the year it's an ongoing love affair with my right hand. This time I decided to buy some new toys to take with me for playtime. Up to this point I purchased all my toys at a seedy bookstore attached to a strip club. I used to walk around the store nonchalantly waiting for the counter to be empty, then I would approach sheepishly, point at a box and mumble "one of those please". A fat creepy dude with bad hair, bad teeth, and a bad attitude took forever to process the sale. When you asked him a question he would grumble, "I only make change, I don't know anything about this shit".
But now I'm embolden with a new sence of confidence. No longer am I a pervert ashamed of my pursuits; now I'm am a hobbyist, with a couple reviews under my belt and membership in a community of linked minded friends. So this time I decided to go shopping where I could have an informative and open discussion about my purchases. I went to the "Gayborhood". I don't know if they have them in other cities, but in my hometown it's right around the corner from my office. It contains a gay movie, a gay book store, a gay bar and of course a neat little store that sells all kinds of leather outfits, contraptions and pornography, with a small sampling of products for straights.
So after the customary window shopping, and checking around to make certain no one I knew could see me, I marched into the store, head held high, pass the gauntlet of leather, chains, and handcuffs, through the isles of gay porn covered with cartoons of muscle men with hard-ons the size of fire hydrants, and up to the counter where I proudly announced to the entire store, "I'M GOING TO VEGAS NEXT MONTH AND I NEEED ASSISTANCE BUYING A STRAP ON!!
Well just about every head turned ever so slightly and the two cashiers stared at each other trying to determine who was going to wait on this piece of work. I told them the story of the fat creepy guy in the seedy book store, and how every thing I bought was so crappy, and how I really just wanted someone knowledgeable to talk to about the products before buying them. Then one fella, about 40, with a razor sharp crew cut, toned physique, and uniquely masculine voice said, "Well if your looking for fun things to put up your ass you've come to the right place".
It wasn't long before the whole counter top was taken up by a selection of strap ons. One by one the few store customers joined us at the counter, it was like a Tupperware party with dildos and a team of gay salesmen in training. I was primarily concerned with the issue of girth, but the experts insisted that length was a more serious concern. And there was a huge disagreement on color, I was interested in "flesh", but everyone else insisted on "jet black"; the salesman tried to compromise with "mulatto". Then someone mentioned "red" and everybody went "aahhhh" like they had some secrete knowledge that I wasn't ready to hear.
We settled on the vac-u-lock system, you really had to pull on the dildo to get it off the harness, while all the others seemed to slip out of a metal ring; and every one agreed it was more comfortable for the wearer (how the fuck they knew that I have no idea, maybe they use them as replacements because Viagra doesn't work on gays??). And after a phone call to the supplier, we determined model 1015-06-BX, the "Thin Natural", addressed my concerns regarding length and girth (They actually had the guy on the phone measuring the dildos). Then a quick purusal of the catalog and I found a cool bed restraint and a door restraint, it was like Christmas in July.
I decided it was time to wrap things up when they pulled out a black plastic case filled with shiny chrome implements of pain. There was a wheel made of tiny sharp metal spokes, a selection of clamps and vice grips, a creepy little hammer and a small square box with wires that administered electric shocks. I didn't ask, and I didn't want to know what the little hammer was for.
But before I left I asked if they sold any cool costumes. "Anthing specific?" "I was hoping for a little Nazi outfit", which drew faces of shock from everyone, apparently you have to go underground for something that heavy, "but we do have a cop outfit on clearance, it comes with baton, hat, handcuffs and a badge." "Cool, and throw in some black thigh highs and we'll call it a day." Finally when everyone realized the atire was all black they agreed the flesh colored dildo was in order; it provided contrast.
Everyone wished me a good trip, I shook a few hands, and on my way out the door one of the patrons reached out and patted me on the ass. Last year I would have been mortified and repulsed, but this time, with my new confidence, I took it as a compliment.
-- Modified on 12/3/2011 12:37:01 AM
