Oh yeah baby!
Mitch McDad sparked the memory – I have to give in and tell the stories.
It was the first Christmas Eve that Scout and I spent together. We sat round the table eating dinner, and I had just sunk my teeth into a cookie when his mother said:
“We were halfway through Iowa when we realized we left the vibrator at home!”
Now, I like a sitcom actress sat with my teeth settled in that cookie, fearing to move at all.
Turns out what she meant was that they had some sort of back rub apparatus that plugged into the wall and vibrated. But Dear God! the visual!
Which took my train of thought game to my second story.
We were all gathered around my grandma as she unwrapped her Christmas presents. One present was one of those massage pads that you put in a chair that is supposed to do shiatsu or some sh… anyway.
The pad was plugged in and as it roared up it’s BUUUUZZZZZZZZZZ! Each grandchild in the room started glancing nervously at another – until we started that flicker of recognition with each other and started to laugh.
Apparently, my family is big into “the toys”. Or our minds are all in the gutter. Or both.
My final story took place as I worked in the lingerie section of a major department store on Christmas Eve one year. (Jennifer – we’re talking Famous Barr at the mall) We had the standard bras, underwear, nightgowns and robes, but in the back was a tacky little rack filled with icky scratchy underthings that just looked so uncomfortable that OF COURSE you would immediately want them off your body to save you from the chafing.
So this rather rough, unsavory looking character comes up to the register with one of these items in his hand. I start ringing it up, one eye on the clock that was counting down the last 15 minutes of the shift when his words broke through:
“Ah thought ’bout buyin’ two o’ these.”
I really didn’t have any reply.
“This’n mahght git all tore up.”
And I REALLY didn’t have any reply!