The Harness
Mishap with the pleasure harness over the weekend. Let’s not get into details. All you really need to know is it wasn’t performing as promised and this resulted in a pulled hamstring and a humiliating conclusion to the evening’s festivities. Don’t make me paint you a word-picture.
But as always I got the extended-coverage warranty from Best Buy so I head over there and endure the formal interview with Amy the Customer Carer [sic]. She goes: “Do you go on record saying that you used the device according to the instruction manual provided on the included CD-ROM?”
And as always I launch into my whole thing about human sexual response and how consistent adherence to dictated rules can, in some scenarios, have the opposite effect than what was intended, and surely the manufacturers understand that and encourage creative and out-of-box applications of their products, etc.
And Amy says: “I am extremely familiar with human sexual response, but I’m compelled to point out page 34 of the manual, which explicitly lists the items that are forbidden by the FDA to use in conjunction with this product, and look here, what does it say right here in the top spot?” And I say: “I don’t know how to read.” And she says: “It says extra-virgin olive oil.” And I’m all: “Do I get my refund or what.” And Amy says: “You get store credit.”
So I stock up on power strips and hot stone massage DVDs and at the door I fish through the bright yellow bag to find the receipt — it is my duty as a consumer to confirm that I have been accurately charged — and notice that Amy has hidden her business card inside. Shameless! And … filthy. No way. I’m not going there, chum. I made a new year’s resolution.
I carefully tear her card into two pieces and put them in my coat pocket, the pocket where I put things that I definitely plan on throwing away later.
