2009
Not the life I envisioned
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I inundate this blog with sex toy reviews, and have been doing so for almost a year. I can hardly believe it’s been that long. In addition to talking about sex toys all the time on here, I’m here now to say that currently, that’s also what I do all day long at work. I began working at the local sex toy shop in May. I had just quit my job which was steady and paid somewhat better, but not much better. I had been making myself miserable in my other job and putting up with the stress just because I didn’t think I could find anything else. In the most daring and terrifying move of my life, I had quit that job without serious prospects of another job and had fallen into a temporary interim of being a delivery driver before I happened upon the sex toy shop. It would be part time and just barely above minimum wage, but it was enough along with a shift of delivering each week, and I didn’t hate the work. I took the job working as a clerk and sex (toy) educator for our local sex shop and was happy. I had stopped settling for a poor fit and took a risk that paid out. This is not the end by any means, I plan to go back to college for my masters in education, but the experience made me realize that I don’t just have to plod along unhappily and put up with piles of shit for the meager reward and pretend that it’s worth it. It was shortly after beginning my job at the sex shop that I broke up with R, my partner, just a month after our one year anniversary.
Things had been going downhill for a while. We had big problems. I had been months unable to sleep in the same bed because my partner woke up nightly with night terrors, and arms flailing violently and rolling on my place in the bed while yelling at nothing in particular, and then going back to sleep as if nothing’s wrong. Now, I’m not cruel, there was no particular trauma or abuse that caused these night terrors and beatings – they were just nightmares, apparently. And we couldn’t try to talk about them without someone who shall remain nameless becoming defensive and really freaking angry that I would dare talk about something that couldn’t be changed. I began sleeping when the bed was empty, which meant I was sleeping from about 7 am – 3 pm and becoming increasingly depressed because I was sleeping through the day. And during my awake time, when R was asleep, I had to tip-toe through the dark and be silent or risk waking R, who would, you guessed it, wake screaming and flailing and occasionally say very unnerving things that always made me think of the Exorcist. On top of this, there were communication issues galore, alcoholism (not mine), and… the list goes on. It was after I broke up with my not-worth-the-hassle job that I realized I had been settling in my personal life as well, just for the sake of companionship and intimacy.
I had known for months that things were strained and this relationship was no longer what I wanted, but I hesitated to end things because of the same old reasons everyone hangs on to broken relationships; the person is familiar, they mean well, you’ll miss ___, you love when they ___. I realized what I would miss was not worth what I was putting up with, and I ended things. The break up was not mutual, but I ended it as tactfully and kindly as I was capable of. We’ve spoken once since, which was not a good idea because it made me feel like shit to find out how quickly R had gotten a new girlfriend. Just a month after telling me that I was making a huge mistake and how devastating the break up was, R was seeing someone new, had met her parents, and was thinking of moving in. Maybe this was true, maybe it was an ego boosting lie. Either way, I’m glad it worked out and that we both were “okay,” even if I was lonely and sexless a month after the break up while R was shacking it up with some blond soprano-singing music teacher. And so what if I lied and said I was seeing a curvy punk-rock sexpot who I was lusting over at the time
The truth is that I wasn’t seeing anyone, because I needed some time to do “me things.” I had been sacrificing a lot of me-time during my relationship because R made me feel like each time I chose to write, draw, sew, etc., I was choosing my “silly hobbies” over “the relationship.” So I needed that time to get back in touch with myself. I’m still doing that, I’m pleased to say. I learned a lot from the failed relationship, which was not my first long term relationship, but one of my longer long term relationships. And definitely one of the top two most intense long term relationships. I learned that I really need space in a relationship, and I need to have my request for space respected. For example, I need to have the freedom to reject company when I go shopping because I know that if I go alone I can find pants in 30 minutes but if I bring my partner it’s going to take twice that because they’ll have ideas, opinions, want to go to Best Buy, will want to go home, will be too hungry to shop, will get bored, will sit on the floor under the mannequins and play with their iPhone and be escorted out by the hot lady-cop in the plus-sized clothing store. Not that this has happened or anything.
I did the usual thing after a period of “single” time. I got back together with my first ex-girlfriend, and then three days later, we broke up. Awesome. Why does this happen? Because I think I’m always going to love her, on some level, and we just really wish we could make it work, but for many reasons, I don’t think it will. After that, I started to wonder where all the lesbians are. And then, I found them. MY FRIENDS!, the lesbians are on OKCupid. THEY ARE! I’m not shitting you, go look. I’ll be here when you’re done. Ok. Well, I made a profile, did a bunch of quizzy questions, uploaded photos, blah blah blah. It’s a nice dating site that has full usability for free users. You can email, IM and wink and stuff, all for free. It’s awesome! I highly recommend it.
Well, part of the reason I recommend it so highly is because I met someone. We talked online for a week or so, met at the local coffee shop one day – IN PUBLIC, during the day, with people around – and then later that night found ourselves making out in the cemetery like we were horny 17 year-olds. In retrospect, that last part was stupid. Kids, don’t make out in the cemetery. It’s illegal and you never know who’s in there. But it was fun. I don’t know if this will last, and right now I’m not looking to jump into the long term again. Last time, things got too serious too fast and before I knew it I was a year into a relationship I didn’t want. So we’re taking it slow this time, which doesn’t mean we’re not getting down, because we are and it’s so awesome. It’s been a little over a month and things are going well so far.
And as far as work goes? Working in a sex shop, now that I’ve been doing it for a few months, isn’t as awesome as you’d think. It’s definitely not bad, but we’re not like a cute little sex shop from your imagination with some of the swank toys I review and 100% queer women produced pornos. No, we’ve got some pretty raunchy stuff, and we have “viewing” booths where men go to do their thing, often with other men whom they write messages to in “Missed Connections” on Craigslist, and a strip club next door. We have regulars, random drunk homeless people who wander in looking for beer, prank callers looking for giant dildos and Real Dolls, and get our fair share of weirdos who perv on lady customers. One such lady-perv has just had his fun ruined by moi. He would come out of the booths, hide behind the magazines, and watch women shop for vibrators… then go back and finish. I confronted him after casually walking by and breaking it up a few times, which I considered warnings, and as far as I know, he’s stopped. The next time it happens, he’s being thrown out.
But for all the random creepers, there are some pretty awesome things that go down at the sex shop. Yesterday, a little old lady, maybe in her seventies, comes in to tell me she had a vibrator and it broke and she wants one just like it, and tells me it looked like a penis and had balls. I was so tickled to help this lady find a vibrator, and we checked out all kinds of them after we couldn’t find hers, and she left with two pretty nice ones. And just today, a girl came in, browsed the store a little, and then came to ask for help choosing a strap-on. It’s about to be her and her girlfriend’s anniversary and she’s looking to spice things up. I hadn’t expected to hear that, though I always really love helping queer folk pick out strap-ons because there is nothing like strapping one on. She left with a simple, easy, beginner strap-on (because she suspected she would be drunk by the time they made it to the bedroom) and a sly smile.
This is not the life I envisioned for myself a year ago. A year ago, in October, I was in a different new relationship, ignoring huge red flags, and dreading every single day that I had to go to my miserable job. I was enjoying being out of college, had no particular plan to go back to school other than a vague “someday” plan, and was going along with whatever happened without thinking about it. Now, I’m in a job I don’t dread every day, I’m with someone whose mind excites me just as much as her body does, and I’m really focused on what I want and what I need to do to get there. I’m not just going along with things and assuming they’re going to last indefinitely. I know things are temporary. This job is temporary. My relationship may be temporary. Life is temporary. I’m enjoying myself, or trying to, and making plans. And while I’m making those plans, life is happening. And I don’t dread it. At least most of the time.
