I stepped daintily out of my car. Just in case anyone inside the store was watching me, I didn't want to look like an overeager oaf. I am a lady, after all, that's what my last boyfriend kept insisting: "You're a lady, why don't you act like one?" I smoothed the wrinkles out of the skirt of my business suit and gingerly flipped my hair out of my face.
I was nervous, but determined to look like a woman on a mission who was in complete control. The last thing I wanted was for the store clerks to take pity on my soul or worse yet, make fun of me for spending Valentine's Eve at Deja' Vu's Adult Emporium ... alone.
The premise for my visit was purely professional. I simply wanted to meet the manager and thank her for the goody bag she'd provided for my friend Scott to give to his wife for her combination birthday/Valentine's Day gift. Yeah, that's it, purely professional. Of course, their ad boasts adult novelties, lingerie and dancewear. Hello? I just so happen to be a real fine dancer who just so happens to be a little shy of good quality dancewear. So, if something just so happened to catch my eye, I just might be inclined to make an investment, end of story.
Truth be told, as soon as I snooped through the bag of lotions and potions that Scott received, I knew I had to make a special visit to Dejá Vu. I was dying to see what other delectable delights lay in store for a single gal who, date or no, had big plans for Valentine's Day.
As I entered the store, I was pleasantly surprised to find "normal" people shopping there. It wasn't chock-full of lonely guys in raincoats. Not that I'm against them, mind you, it's just that I was feeling a bit vulnerable and knew if it came down to it I might be inclined to hit on one of them. No such luck; au contraire, there were happy couples picking out lingerie and girlfriends looking for that special something to get and keep their mans attention.
After meeting Megan, the store manager, and thanking her for her support, I explained that I just wanted to look around a bit, you know ... for story ideas.
Is it wrong that I was like a kid in a candy store? I was only there for about four or five hours, but it whizzed by! There was so much to see, so much to touch, to smell, to try on!
After perusing every aisle seven-plus times, not wanting to miss anything, I took my booty to the register. As I patiently waited my turn, my attention was drawn to the television monitor, which was playing a snippet of a movie that I believe was called Juicy Cream Pie or some such thing. It reminded me that I was starving, so I made a mental note to make a run for the border before going home for the pre-game party.
As I stood there smiling at my swag, the darndest thing happened: I realized that I was happy. Even though it was the eve of the biggest date night of the year and I was going to be dateless I was completely content. Not even a trace of sadness that there would be no romantic dinner for two by candlelight, no boxes of wine and gallons of chocolates, no cards with silly sentiments picked just for me and no slow, sweet lovemaking in front of the fireplace ... or was there?
One hour and two taco supremes later, I was clad in the sexiest, form-fitting, black-lace teddy with matching G-string panties. I'd taken a long, hot bubble bath, where I enjoyed a shaken Grey Goose martini and a Cohiba cigar. With no one around to tell me that I wasn't acting very ladylike, I savored every second. I shaved my legs top to bottom and everything in between; then I very purposely massaged my warm, supple skin with vanilla-scented massage oil that heated up with every stroke.
After I was nice and clean, I decided to get a little dirty. I took the box of Desage Chocolates from Neiman Marcus that I'd indulged myself with and melted the exquisitely smooth, sweet, brown food over the parts of my body that I could easily reach with my tongue. As I licked it off, a soft moan escaped my throat. It was heaven on Earth.
Then, for the coup de grace, I slowly lay down in front of the roaring fire, knees up, back arched, eyes rolled, as I silently thanked the gods for forcing me to buy an extra battery pack for the Butterfly that was satisfying me so. Before I reached my peak, my fingers dove into the place that I knew would give me the most pleasure: into a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos. I am such a lady.
When all was said and done, I lay in a heap, sweating, panting and controlling my very own remote control. It was heaven on Earth. Before I drifted off into a much needed slumber, I whispered the three words I needed to hear: "Happy f--king Valentine's."
Sonja is a writer who covers the ins and outs of relationships. Or is it the ups and downs?