Customer Serviced

I was sitting at the kitchen table sucking Cup Noodle remnants off of my "Pugs Not Drugs" t-shirt this evening when my mobile telephone jolted to life in my lap.

One Unread Message.

From: Nina 

Hey Core, I just finished eating pancakes and now I have to run to the sex store to grab something for a bachelorette party. Care to join? 

"I thought you'd never ask," I typed, fingers quivering triumphantly.

"It smells like sinning," I said to Nina twenty minutes later as we basked in the naughty florescent glow of my neighborhood sex toy purveyor.

"Yeah," she said, taking a deep breath, "or college."

"Can I help you?" a saleswoman asked, poking her gray-haired head out from behind a rack of crotchless ski pants.

"Yes," Nina began, "we're looking for..."

"…a job application," I interrupted. "I noticed that you're hiring and I have believed for quite some time that blow-up dolls are my calling."

"Alright," she smiled uneasily, "let me go grab one. I'll be back in a minute."

"We'll be in the dildo isle!" I called after her, my voice dulled by the disco thump of the store's sound system.

"You really want to work here?" Nina asked a moment later as we slinked past shelves heaped with phallic tea sets and his and hers mouth gags.

"Who knows?" I answered, plucking a vibrator from a low shelf. "Maybe I can write a book about it. Or at least get a discount."

"Or an STD," she quipped, dropping a pair of fuzzy dice testicles back onto the shelf.

"Look at me," I said, slicing the Magic Missile 2000 through the air. "I'm Luke Skyfucker."

"What are you doing?" the saleswoman demanded, emerging from behind a shelf of adult board games.

"Oh, I'm just, ugh, testing the durability of this device," I answered.

"This is not the place for batting practice," the saleswoman scolded. "This is a place for sexual vivification."

"I wasn't playing baseball with this big, pink penis substitute, ma'am," I started to explain. "I was just reenacting the lightsaber duel from "The Empire Strikes Back." You know, the part where Darth Vader…"

"If you can't respect the policies of Lover's Lane, you can leave."

"What? No, I wasn't trying to disres..."

"Leave."

"But, the applica…"

"Go!"

"Come on, Core," Nina said, yanking the sex rod from my grasp and discarding it next to a box of "Jersey Shore" condoms. "I'll just get a dick-shaped cake mold from somewhere else."

"Fine," I spat, making my way toward the door, "I'll leave. But it's not because you told me to, lady. It's because you look like a Muppet Baby in drag and this store smells like a barbecued clown merkin."

"Lover's Lane is for people who are serious about devices of pleasure," she scolded. "Don't come back until you can count yourself among them."

"Not in a million years..." I said to Nina as we made our way across the parking lot.

"Not in a million years what?" she asked.

"Not in a million years did I expect to find a tightass in a dildo shop."