to be filed under "funny to others"

Last week, just a few days after Donny had his major marriage malfunction, my mom came to visit me. This is a rare occurrence in my life; living for seventeen years in Gotham, I’ve had the pleasure of a visit from either of my parents exactly five times. Needless to say, the matriarchal visit necessitates some house-cleaning on my part, not the least of which is my gathering the sex toys from hither and yon, slipping any number of them into the many velvet and velveteen bags I have, stashing the roiling velvet-shrouded silicone, stainless steel, and plastic mess of them in a large bag and shoving that large bag into the hoary-deep recess under my bed.

My mom left on Sunday, the day of the wedding that wasn’t mine. The next day, or maybe the day after, I pulled the bag of toys and whatnot out from under my bed and put a few of said toys to their designated uses. After I’d reluctantly and begrudgingly come, I washed the toys, slipped the two of them—a sprightly new vibrator and a much beloved extra-large silicone dildo of color—into a small bag and dropped the small bag into the big bag that rested at the end of, no longer underneath, my bed.

On Thursday, I returned home from my long day out working my part-time job and saw that the scarlet velvet bag containing the extra-large dildo of color sitting on the floor, squat in the middle of my bedroom. Odd place for it, I thought, as I tossed it into the big bag of toys still gaping at the foot of my bed, and then I went about my evening.

And yet, the dildo out of place troubled me. It became a kind of Edgar Allen Poe tell-tale heart, beating, beating, beating a silent tattoo from the cushiony softness of its red velvet bag. I ate, I washed up, I watched some Buffy, I walked my dog, and still the dildo silently throbbed in my consciousness, the memory of it lying there disquietingly in the center of my floor glowing improbably like a great phallus-shaped blob of uranium dioxide. It troubled me, this tell-tale dildo.

Then it came to me in a hideous realization; an appalling vision swam before my eyes, as if I had been suddenly afflicted with prescience.

My dog, you see, has a history of eating things. Intimate things.

I saw my dog, home alone. I saw him perk up his ears, jump from the couch, turn around several times. I saw him freeze in happy anticipation. I saw a tiny thought cross his small, furry brain. I saw him run into my bedroom, and I saw him rout out the crimson bag with the dildo of color. I saw him take it in his mouth, and I saw him standing at the door, vibrating with excitement, dog-happy and prepared with a toy, waiting in complete readiness to delightedly, exuberantly and passionately greet his dogwalker, Marvin,

Then I saw Marvin. I saw him being greeted by my fervently happy dog, the red bag in his mouth. I saw Marvin see the bag. I saw Marvin see the dildo popping out of the bag. I saw Marvin’s realization dawn into horror. I saw him bend over and pick up the toy and its bag. I saw his tentative fingers and I saw his look of resignation crossed with…something. Revulsion? Fascination? (It’s dark in my mind’s eye; the lighting is not good.)  I saw him try not to touch the toy as he shook it gingerly back into its crimson bag, and I felt appreciation for Marvin’s pure professionalism as he undoubtedly tossed the whole sexual kit and caboodle in the general vicinity of my bedroom.

Now. Let’s say that Marvin didn’t see the dildo. Let’s suggest for one moment that there was some small mercy for me, and the extra-large dildo of color actually remained swathed in its chaste velveteen cocoon. There is still no way that Marvin touched the bag without knowing that it was a dildo. Nothing else feels like a dildo, except for a dick, and Marvin, for all of his debatable unfamiliarity with dildos, definitely has a dick. It’s not much of a win, really, for me to imagine that Marvin didn’t see the dildo; he unquestionably felt the dildo, and here, as in other cases, touch is all you, or I, or Marvin, need.

Which leaves me in an awkward position. Sure, I can say nothing, and I probably will. But the one thing that makes this all yet more problematic is that not only is my dildo a dildo of color, but my dogwalker is also a human of color. Which means that if my dogwalker saw the dildo, then he thinks that I have a thing for dick of a certain size, girth, and discernibly, if unrealistically, dark hue. And the thing is that I do not have a thing for dick of any particular hue—dick, as long as it’s a good size, of any color is fine with me. Red, yellow, black and white, all cock is precious in my sight.

No, the person who has a thing for dick of color would be Donny, my boyfriend/fiancé/X. He’s the one with the racial fetish, not me, and it’s because of him that when I purchased the much-beloved extra-large silicone dildo, I chose one in color. I only wanted to indulge my lover’s quasi-ethically-problematic race fetish, being that I don’t have one myself.

But just try telling that to Marvin. Or better yet, don’t.

Comments

[Selena Kitt]

Oh. My. God.

I'm sorry.

I'm laughing too hard to comment sufficiently.

[Momtoomany]

LOL, poor Marvin!

[Sailor]

God, that's so funny. I wish you had better lighting on Marvin's face!!

[Jess]

Oh my. Well that is awfully embarrassing. Yet oh so funny. You see, I have had a similar situation pass my way. Except it was my husbands best friend opening my nightstand drawer and grabbing things without looking.

I'm not sure if I would be able to look my dog-walker in the eye. Ever.

[Musns]

ROFLMAO - that is great, I could picture the entire scenario in my mind.

[Walden]

Soooo funny!! My friend is a screener with TSA at the airport. Loves to send carry on baggage for extra screening when he sees a toy on the xray. Just to mess with his buddies on the other end of the line.

[saratoga]

CG-

That's hilarious. What a great story and humorous predicament.

Right out of Larry David or Seinfeld, n'est pas?

-saratoga

[Greg]

Just let him wonder. While you remain mysterious but somehow imposssibly sexy underneath your smile. His mind must be racing.

[The Fury]

ROFLMAO - As a man of color I can pretty much guarantee that if young Marvin saw your dildo, the color was the third thing that went through his mind, if at all. The first thing? "Wow, this fine ass client of mine has a fucking dildo!" The second, "why the hell is her dildo out? Shit she mustve been using it and ran out to work, I better put it back and act like I didnt see it." Third of course is "it's a big black dildo, I wonder if she likes big black dick...course she does" If you like epic cock of all color don't worry about if he thinks you do.

[Padoodles]

Oh CG, that's too funny! In the spirit of sharing and in hopes of helping you feel better and making you laugh: A friend of mine, who links to you, helps me clean my messy house on occasion. One particular time she vacuumed my bedroom. She later told me how she giggled as she held up my tethers that are attached to my bed so they didn't get sucked up in the vacuum. I've also had collars discovered in couches by house sitters. It's embarrassing but I got over it.

[MJ]

OK, I'm going to be judgemental for a moment - but not about you. He wanted a threesome, he has a Big Black You-Know-What doing his hot white girlfriend fixation, he didn't want to have to "sacrifice" any of his earnings for your lives together, didn't he also not want to do the dance of meeting the families - he was thinking with his Big White You-Know-What and maybe things were never, ever going to work out in a mature way. I'm sorry this has hurt you - from reading your blog I feel like I've gotten to know you, and I think that if we knew each other in the real world I'd like you a lot.

[S.P.]

DEFINITELY "funny to others"....!!!!

We started having an occasional maid service come in, and there's no doubt they've seen various weapons of ass destruction in the bedroom and closet... and about four months after they started, they arrived early one day, just as I was walking out to the car -- and the very brief / then averted eye contact on their part was certainly in the "embarrased" category...

Me, I laughed all the way to the office!