Slow Motion Movie Kisses & The FUKUOKU 9000
In the wake of said failed Valentine’s Day, I went down to LA to visit the boyfriend over the weekend. Having a few other prepubescent issues lurking in the womb of relationship doom, I was a little leery about the trip in general. I am comfortable communicating but when someone takes what I am saying the wrong way and cannot seem to “get it”, I really lose interest in dealing with the impending conflict. Not big on the whole conflict thing although I will try to take my shoe off and throw it at your head if I am drunk enough and you really piss me off… but that isn’t really considered conflict per se. I kind of wanted to cancel the trip altogether but I knew if I let things sit, he wouldn’t deal with it so I wouldn’t deal with it…Birth of Pissing Contest 2004…then I would do what I always do and shut down emotionally, write it off as “Not worth the energy” and then pine over what could have been drunk at 2:30 in the morning with the phone in one hand and a monster taco from Jack in the Crack in the other...so I went…and I’m so happy I did.
Have you ever spent a number of days with someone and it was as if everything was scripted? Like you both knew just what to say, you had no plans but things just fell into place without any decision making effort for either of you. We kept getting lost in time while *execute preparation of barf bags now* gazing into each others eyes and literally being snapped out of it by a car honking behind us or someone walking by making a comment like “Just kiss her already! You two look so romantical.” (Yes this did really happen in Ralph’s on Sunset in the bread section which is funny because I don’t eat bread and the guy who said it looked like the ghost of Joey Ramone.) I stayed an extra night and even got 3 consecutive nights of good sleep sans Sominex and despite his outlandish snoring problem.
For someone like me, someone who gets annoyed with pretty much everyone and everything at some point, to NOT get annoyed after 3 whole days with someone is incredible. Turns out, it’s the same for him. The fact that he didn’t get me anything for Valentine’s Day is now a non-issue. I don’t fucking care. He made up for it with a weekend of romantic dinners, endless laughter, romantic gazes and softly whispered sweet nothings…oh and let’s not forget hot sex.
For those of you who know me, you know I am very open-minded sexually and I am not embarrassed if people know it. In fact, I prefer to wear my heart on my sleeve and find it is a clever way of weeding out people I really would rather not waste my energy on such as a.) narrow-minded creeps, b.) judgmental assholes, c.) backstabbing jackasses, and finally but certainly not least, e.) Condescending fucktards. I have found that there is no better way to weed these people out than to just be my colorful, sexually open, obnoxious, gutter-mouthed, opinionated self. Works like a charm. So for those of you who might fit into one of the above categories: Please take this opportunity to stop reading this blog now because I am sure that if I don't offend your lame needing to get out more ass now, I am certain I will later so do us all a favor and piss off now.*ahem getting back on track* After 3 months of dating, you basically have a feel for someone sexually. I mean, you get an idea of what they like and dislike, their ways in which they “get it on” *cue Barry White track here – any will do, I mean, it’s fucking Barry White* and so on and so forth. Never being content with normalcy or routine, I decided to liven things up a little and wait for the perfect moment to bust out with *drum roll* The FUKUOKU 9000 . A little bit of weaponry carefully selected from my arsenal at home that would be perfect to use as a weapon in which to make his knees weak and mine tremble…perfect to sneak on a plane undetected….yeah right, what planet am I living on? This is MY luck we are talking about here. Pssshhhhhhhhhh.
I never ever check my bags so as I am going through security as I have a hundred times before, my bag is whisked away on the conveyer belt and under the watchful eye of Brother Airport Security who doesn’t speak a wick of engwish and isn’t keeping his eye on the x-ray thingy so he has to scan your bag like 5 times while I am asked to remove everything down to my goddamn dress and pantyhose. I even had to take out my fucking hair clip which REALLY sucked because I had this hot just been fucked Courtney love updo thing going on so you can imagine how fucking ridiculous I looked with the carefully individual teased pieces sprayed to kingdom come by hairspray that makes Aqua Net seem like seltzer water hanging out every which way. I looked like Medusa on crack.
And then comes the:
“Oh Miss? Is this bag wours?”
I nod.
“Pwease step ober der.”
Fuck.
I immediately started to panic. Did I pack anything illegal? Are there drugs in there? I might have some Xanex I bought in Tijuana but everyone was doing it…it was PEER PRESSURE!! Can I go to jail for unprescribed Xanex?? As my mind was racing, I had to acknowledge everything in my bag that she was showing me and then she pulls out the little black leather case.
Double fuck.
Mind you, it is about as busy as I have ever seen it in the airport, I am dressed like a hussy since I am on my way to Hollywood for unspecified evening activityand had a late flight because I had to work and had no time to change before hand so am already hookered out, barefoot, push up bra creating something more like a TV tray than actual cleavage, hair all jacked up like I stuck my toe in an electrical outlet, face bright red as she asks me to open the case and take out The FUKUOKU 9000.
Triple fuck.
Hands now shaking, it is as if I am being pulled under water. Everything starts to sound and feel like it is in slow motion. I see faces staring at me, mocking me as they walk by at a snail’s pace; seemingly laughing with clay faces like melting Jokers…I pull out the tiny plastic vibrator and hand it to her.
“What is it?”
“Uhhh iii..iiit…it’s a vibrator.”
"A what?"
*cough cough* In a whisper yet closer to her head "I said, it is a vi-bra-tor..a lil' one."
*blank stare*
“Turn it on please.”
“Huh?”
“Turn it on please.”
Quadruple fuck.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
“Thank you.”
Pushes my bag over towards me.
Stuck on stupid, with The FUKUOKU 9000 still securely fastened on my index finger and vibrating on like the little trooper it is, I stand slack-jawed and confused like a soldier suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome in the middle of a hot LZ…she pushes my bag to the end of the counter, thanks me again yet a little annoyed this time and I hurriedly stuff the The FUKUOKU 9000 back into its case and in my bag. Luckily my flight was delayed an hour so all the people in line behind me got to sit and chuckle at my expense at the gate.
All that and we never even used the fucking thing all weekend.
So despite the airport security vibrator humiliation episode, I am still dubbing this weekend the best weekend of 2004...so far. :?)
posted by Rachel @ 11:34 PM
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