I'm not losing it.
I was in Mama Joy's by myself, loafing around and bored. Bored to the point where I had folded six napkins into paper footballs and was working on a seventh when I looked up to see Amy heading my way. I think she'd been hanging out with Ephram, maybe with her parents instead, but she didn't say. What she did say when she slid into the booth across from me was, "Can you get me a dildo?"
Needless to say, I spat coffee all over the tabletop. While we were both cleaning up with a few of my napkin-footballs, I hissed, "What the hell, Amy? Who leads off with a request like that?"
"Sorry," she said earnestly. "But… well, it was either that, or I wouldn't have been able to ask at all. But seriously… can you?"
"Am I supposed to be your 'connection' or something? God, Ames, go into Denver and find a shop and-"
"I can't do that!" she protested. "It's so… they'd take one look at me and kick me out for being too cute and innocent!"
I smiled as I piled up the soaking napkins on a dry one. "You have a pretty high opinion of yourself."
"Cut it out. Come on, seriously, can you get one for me? I'd be so eternally grateful, you don't even know."
"What's with this all of a sudden?" I leaned in and lowered my voice. "Back to me being your connection… that wasn't supposed to be a drug-pusher arrangement, you know that, right? Like 'the first one is free' or whatever. I thought we were getting rid of your virginity and that's where it ended."
"We were. I just…" Here she gave me a bashful smile. "I guess I didn't hate it as much as I thought I would. So… I mean, I know it's weird, but I'm too nervous to get one for myself. Please? I'm totally gonna give you the money for it, though, don't worry about that part."
Humoring her for the moment, I stared down at the tabletop as if lost in thought, then said, "Okay, what kind?"
"What kind do you want? Ribbed, studded, spiraled... colour, size? Jelly or hard plastic? Wood? Maybe glass, even? Vibration or gyration? One with a rabbit-style clitoral stimulation attachment?"
"Lay-nieee!" she whined.
"Anal stimulation attachment? You down for some dee-pee?" Having too much fun now, I ignored her scandalized face and went on, "They do make the kind that slip easily into a harness so you can turn it into a strap-on. It's like two toys in one."
"What are you, their spokeswoman?" she snapped, folding her arms over her chest and looking out the window angrily. "You didn't have to make fun of me for asking, but hey, that's fine. Treat me like a kid."
"You are a kid," I told her with a slight smirk. "One somebody let loose in a candy store. But you don't know what you want. We can't complete this transaction unless you throw up some parameters."
"Get off my back. I'm serious here, I really want one. I mean, maybe I won't even use it, but we can't keep passing your baton back and forth like we're in some kind of sexy relay race."
That one made me blush. I hadn't actually used it since she had; the concept was strange. I knew eventually I'd get over it, but for now I couldn't wrap my head around putting something inside me that had been inside my best friend. WAY too queer. "Yeah. I m-mean, do you maybe just want the one I've got and I can visit my friends at St Margret's for another one? Probably our cheapest option."
Amy bit her lip and stared out the window for a really long time. Then, out of left field, she whispered, "They really make those out of glass?"
"Dork," I giggled. "Come on, forget all about this. Just use your hand for a while. Why are you trying so hard to be all 'pro' about it when you're not a pro?"
"Because I liked it!" Her cheeks were glowing, but she was determined to convince me. It was adorable, really. "Because it was so good I can't stop thinking about it! And b-because... because I still can't touch myself without feeling all nauseous, okay? There, I said it. I'm scared of my own snatch."
I blinked at her, totally fazed. "You're saying it's easier for you to use power tools than just pet the kitty? You are bass-ackwards in the brain, Abbott."
"I don't need your ridicule, Laynie. I just need your help."
"Okay." My mind was still blown, but I couldn't deny that there wasn't a single joke lingering in her expression. "Okay, if you want one that bad, I'll give you mine. Merry Christmas."
"I don't want yours, I want one of my own. Didn't we already discuss this?"
"Fine, so you wanna hit the big city this weekend and go into an adult boutique?" By this point I let that hard edge fall around my words because I was sick of her fussing until she got her way. The thing about Controlling-Amy you have to understand is that all it takes is showing her you're done putting up with it to bring her back down to earth. "Let's do it. Let's do it Saturday."
"I told you, I'm not-"
"I will go in with you," I cut her off. "Yes, I will, I will help you buy Baby's First Vibrator. But I'm not gonna go by myself and be the only one who looks like some huge slut. Either we both fall on that grenade or neither of us does, but I'm not letting you hide under the bed while I do your dirty work – cos this is some really dirty work."
"But what will that look like?" she protested. "They'll think we want it so we can... y'know, play together!"
"Yeah? And what did we do last time?"
Okay, remember that staring contest we had in my room right after I put on the Sigur Rós album? Yeah, this was an actual staring contest; we were both doing our best death glares, teeth grinding and lips all pursed. It was probably hilarious to the other patrons of Mama Joy's. Then Amy snapped, "Fine, we both go," and popped up from the table and breezed out the door.
She was mad and wanted to throw her little tantrum, but she also didn't want to yell at me so much that I changed my mind. Therefore, it was time for her to go lock herself in her car and scream at the steering wheel about how excruciating I was being.
That's right; we girls have ourselves a date with dildos. Two days from now. How do I get myself into these messes? I'll be sure and let you know how it turns out... if we survive the trip there, the actual experience, and the trip back. Probably asking too much from Jesus, but hey, it could happen.
AUTHORESS'S NOTE: Goodness, I'm tired... I don't know why I'm so tired today. What's the matter with me? I'm drinking pure sugar right now: Mexican Sprite. It'd delicious, but it simply isn't waking me up enough. Gar.
13th: Better fiction through innovation, I always say! Expect more golden nuggets of pure imaginifying cropping up in future! (someone snuff me)Soulless: Gay Rights... they should be identical to Straight Rights. I don't get all up in arms over it anymore because I don't see it as something that still needs to be argued; gays are people, people have rights, therefore etc, etc, etc. Fairly simple x=y=z equation. There are plenty of hyper-liberal advocacy groups to yell at the unyielding conservative groups out there, and while they're cancelling each other out I'll feel free to live as I am. Also, don't worry about your sense of humour; not everyone can have one! (as you can see, I also am awfully unfunny at times)
NEXT: The wackiest afternoon of Laynie's young life.