We’ve all received those dreaded invitations to multi-level marketing events. You know the ones—everyone you know is hawking monogrammed jewelry or a plethora of unnecessary items that inevitably end up gathering dust in your kitchen drawers. Most of us tend to ignore these Facebook invites or respond with a polite excuse. Unless I have a genuine fondness for the host, I typically decline and pretend I’m on the brink of financial ruin from impulse purchases. However, if you’re fortunate enough to be invited to a sex toy party with your favorite friends, I wholeheartedly recommend you respond with an enthusiastic, “Absolutely, I’ll happily explore anal beads and flavored lubes in your living room!”
When I arrived at the party, my friend Jessie had arranged a delightful spread of snacks and a generous selection of wine. A little tip for anyone hosting these kinds of events: let the drinks flow freely! People tend to spend more when they’re tipsy. I came as a gracious guest, bringing along a tray of cookies shaped like, well, you can guess. I baked both sugar and chocolate chip varieties, and they were a hit! My frequent exclamation of “Eat a cookie, if you dare!” had everyone in stitches.
The sales representative from a fictional company called Toys ‘R Us (not really, but it should be!) arrived and set up her display while we munched on crackers and my delightful cookies. To my dismay, the table was filled with lotions and creams instead of the exciting items I was hoping for. There was a whip, which at least added some intrigue, even if it wasn’t powered by batteries. She wisely encouraged us to refill our glasses and then gathered us for a rather lengthy presentation.
Our toy expert instructed us to flip through the catalogs she handed out. The first few pages were all lotions—yawn. I skimmed through as she launched into her spiel, and my initial buzz began to fade with every page showcasing body sprays and sparkly powders that promised to make us shine like disco balls for weeks. It felt like a waste of my precious buzz, especially since I had come out on a Friday night to witness some outrageous products.
Eventually, we reached the novelty section of the catalog, which was a breath of fresh air. The rep tossed a book titled “50 Creative Ways to Give a Blow Job” at one of our more timid friends, who reflexively flinched. Just a side note: that book could easily be renamed “49 Ways to Overcomplicate Something Simple.”
Now, I’d argue that these gatherings aren’t for the shy or prudish, but those folks make for the most entertaining company. They squirm at every hint of innuendo, even when the conversation is entirely innocent. I shared a product I had purchased at a previous party—an unassuming gel pad that can be heated for massages. I mentioned using it for period cramps, and one friend gasped in horror at the thought of it being “in my…vagina-pants?” Whether she was more shocked by the idea of carrying a “sex toy” around or the realization of where I keep my anatomy, it was a humorous moment. I still fully recommend the warmth for cramps; it’s a lifesaver.
Next up was game time. The rep had us write down the name of a celebrity and a body part. I picked RuPaul and “frenulum” because it was fresh in my mind, thanks to a friend’s recent piercing horror story. I soon realized this was going to be a sort of sexual Mad Libs. In my story, RuPaul did something incredibly bizarre to my frenulum, and let’s just say things escalated quickly.
Then there were teams and some light bondage gear—think paddles and whips. We raced to see which team could strap on the gear and give each other playful spankings the quickest. Some of the moms were surprisingly good at this, and I won’t be hanging out with those particular friends anymore.
By the time we got to the main event—actual sex toys—I was stone-cold sober. As the rep handed out the goods, we inspected and occasionally tossed some items at each other. A few of the toys were impressively high-tech, including a vibrator with a strobe light. Honestly, the only reason I can think of for a light on a vibrator is if someone needs help finding the clitoris. Otherwise, it feels a bit unnecessary.
Some of the items were rather cheap, and I wouldn’t recommend skimping in this department. One cock ring, for instance, looked like it could cause serious harm if not handled carefully. But hey, to each their own, right?
I couldn’t help but notice how sober I was by the end of the night, which was not ideal for the sales. I arrived ready to buy some wild items to give my partner a shock, but instead, I munched on more cookies, accidentally sprayed a not-so-favorite acquaintance with body spray, and headed home to a relieved spouse.
So, if you’re ever tasked with selling sex toys—or really anything—consider welcoming guests with a bottle of bubbly upon arrival and skip the boring stuff. Trust me, tipsy guests are far more likely to open their wallets.
In summary, I encourage you to accept that invite to your friend’s sex toy gathering. Keep a firm grip on your drink and brace yourself for some laughs, or some awkward moments with other parents at school on Monday. Just make sure to let your sales rep know that if it’s available at Bath & Body Works, you’re not interested.
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