How not to buy your first vibrator

So I'd done my research online, I'd endured the Anne Summers hen party, I'd even scouted a shop one afternoon but was too mortified to make a purchase, but finally last saturday I decided I was heading straight to busy Oxford Street and damn well getting one.

My only requirement was that it was discrete ("Oh this in the bottom of my wardrobe? Oh that's a paperweight I think Mom.."). Definitely not one of those giant neon c*ck shaped monstrosities that look a bit..ew.

As I approached the shop, I made a quick scan of 50 thousand shoppers on the bustling street for familiar faces, pulled the beak of my hat low and made a sharp 45 degree entrance. Passengers on the bus stuck in traffic outside peered in, I made a very dramatic show of: Oh look at me, just a grown up lady shopper looking at pretty lady underwear, nothing to see here..They're clever the people running this chain, the bulk of the top floor is just lingerie, nothing your granny would flinch at, it's downstairs where it gets saucier, and downstairs where I'm shit embarrassed to tread.

"I am a cool and confident adult woman" I keep repeating to myself, but I can feel my neck and cheeks flushing as I labour through the "vault". I think I know what I want, a not too fallic sleek silver bullet shaped thing I'd seen on the online catalogue. I see it on display, nestled between the giant neon c*ck shaped monstrosities and a sea of batteries..I pick one up and attempt to read the packaging to find out..er..what kind of batteries I need. "OMG I'm holding a vibrator!" and "this is so embarrassing!" and "I am a cool and confident adult woman" are all screaming over eachother in my head, and to top it all, I seem to have lost the ability to read small print, and I'm like "for fuck's sake stop handling the thing and read!", and a lone man in a coat is now right next to me, and I'm still handling the thing, still not reading..

Eventually I take the thing and a pack of batteries and attempt to run for the till, only to suddenly have to stop in the queue that has suddenly formed. What the hell?! It's alright for the giggling girls purchasing hen night stuff, and the couples smirking and holding hands, NOT alright for the single girl with a poker face that has turned purple who didn't have the forsight to get a basket and is now having to endure holding a vibrator in her right hand and a pack of batteries in her left..

And then to top it, said loud enough for the whole floor to hear: "Sorry for keeping you waiting madam, would you also like to buy some ANTIBACTERIAL WIPES for your toy?"

Nice.

"Er..no..I'm good..ta"

"That's 24.99 please!"

Could I be more obvious as I insist on paying cash (there will be no paper trail on this..)

And finally it's almost over I think to myself, as she passes over my purchase in a ridiculously too big for the product bag emblazoned with the shop's logo, and buoyed with a little gumption I decide to pick up a miniture version of the product I've just purchased which is on display at the till, only to somehow get it jammed. I apply slight pressure and in that moment, at what could have been a smooth and beautifully understated exit from the shop of delights, I manage to knock over the whole sodding display of miniature vibrators all over the shop floor!!! I catch a couple on the way down, balance the display frame on the back of my hand and gingerly watch as a few roll over towards the handcuffs and crotchless knickers..COCK!!