Career Opportunity

My sister spent Friday night and part of Saturday with me. We drank wine, eat goulash, listened to our favorite music and she gave me a make over. Then we were off to the movies and because I got to pick I had to go to a sports bar with her to watch the Red Sox. I now understand that watching the Red Sox while you sit on a bar stool and sip a Gritty's Halloween Ale is much, much more enjoyable then sitting in my living room.

The next day we wandered down to the Old Port to do some window shopping and have lunch. This is where the day got interesting. You see, my flover* had introduced me to Nomia. Nomia is an Erotic Boutique. There are oriental carpets on the floor and the lighting is good. It is a sex shop for woman even though men have been known to cross its threshold. Nomia's motto is Peace, Love and Revolution...One Orgasm at a Time. (This is the point where my more bashful readers will want to exit my blog.)

I had visited Nomia once in the past several, months ago. It was more in the way of a personal dare. Was the Good Catholic prude really dead? Could I actually walk into a sex shop and buy message oil? Or anything else for that matter? Well, I passed my self imposed test. Of course, I never let my eyes wander above the level of my feet because when I did they would come to rest on an object that would make be gasp and blush. The GCG might be dead but she can still roll over in her grave.

Last Saturday as we were walking down the street I pointed Nomia out to my sister. Her immediate response was, "Oh, we have to go in! I can bring something home to hubby." Great, I thought to myself, more blushing and lowered eyes. But do you know what? It wasn't so bad this time. Even though I couldn't actually let my glance linger on any one object for fear of heart failure, I was able to converse, laugh and have a good time. My sister has that affect on me.

Towards the end of our visit my sister was paying for her purchases and chatting with the owner of the shop. I wandered away to examine the curiosities hanging on a near-by wall. Bad idea. Did I really need to know what Smartballs were? I think not. I rushed back to the counter only to have this conversation wash over me like the Great Flood.

Sister: Ashley would be perfect for the job! She is a La Leche League Leader. She talks to groups of women all the time and is really great at it.

Me: What job?

Owner: I am looking for a new Toy Party Facilitator. We would train you extensively on all of the products. It is a great job and so much fun. We do groups of women. Bachelorette parties. Book clubs. Friends. The next level of class is called Viva la Vulva. If you enjoy the work you can do that as well.

Me: (turning to my sister with my I am going to kill you stare) You have got to be kidding me!

Sister: No, really. You would be great. You love teaching and you have recently become very interested in sex. Don't you see? It's a great fit.

Owner: Think about it. Here is my card with my personal e-mail address on it. If you are interested let me know. We only like to hire women who have a medical background.

Me: Ummmm....thanks. (Tucking card into wallet.)

The card is still in my wallet. The funny thing is: I am very intrigued. I have a wicked sense of humor and love to teach. If I could just get over being able to say the words out loud I think it would be fun.

I haven't sent her an e-mail yet but I have been muttering vulva** under my breath quite a bit.

Just practicing.

* Flover: friend and lover.
** I was going to link you all to an image but thought better of it.