Are You Addicted To Your Vibrator?
The other night I was out with the girls. We popped into the health club for a quick steam and then to the hotel bar across the road for drinks and dinner under palm trees and stars. It was very romantic.
As we sat around the table, conversation sparking like a hundred firecrackers, a thought stuck me. How could three good-looking, fun, accomplished women be not only single on a Saturday night but also completely unconcerned about the singleness of our lives?
It was as though, somewhere along the way, we had lost interest in the dating dance. If only you could go from love at first sight to happily ever after with none of the “getting to know you” stuff in between. And, if you couldn’t, no biggie either: solitude has many virtues.
Maybe we had set our sights too high. Leigh, a tall fifty-year-old woman with shoulder length brown hair and bedroom eyes said she was still looking for her knight in shining armor.
“Isn’t he dead yet?” I said.
Leigh shot me a dirty look. “My parents have that kind of relationship. Why can’t I?”
“Because, Leigh,” I said smugly, “How can Mr. Knight become Mr. Right when he doesn’t even exist?”
“How do you know that?” Gina piped up, flicking her wavy blonde hair off her face. “We’re not all as jaded as you are, Pam.”
I stared at her. “Oh no,” I said suspicion rising. “Don’t tell me you’ve got Knight Fever, too?”
Gina grinned at me. “No,” she said. “I’ve settled for Mr. Sex Just Right.”
Leigh and I sat forward in our seats, all ears. “Continue,” I advised with a queenly wave of the hand.
“Well,” said Gina taking in a deep breath. “I met this fantastic guy but there’s one problem. I can’t seem to come without my vibrator.”
“Oh,” I said heavily. “That is serious. If a guy can’t compete with a vibrator, he hasn’t got a hope in hell.”
“Oh, stop, Pam,” ordered Leigh disapprovingly. She turned to Gina and touched her arm consolingly. “Does he know what he’s doing in bed?” asked Leigh.
“Yes, yes, he’s a great lover,” said Gina.
“Maybe he just doesn’t like threesomes,” I said, “And is afraid to tell you.”
“He said he doesn’t mind the vibrator,” said Gina.
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