Yes, the number is 6. Shit I kinda ruined the suspense on that one, huh? I shoulda’ made you wait until the end. Yes, it was premature elucidation, which is fairly common when talking vibrators.
More importantly, you should be wondering, How did you calculate this number and what does one do with so many vibrators?
I was wondering the same thing. See…I was at the BlogHer conference along with 5000 other peeps this weekend and I’ve never witnessed anything quite like the Trojan booth, which was giving away free Trojan Vibrations Tri-phoria at the Friday expo. Only in video of the LA riots, have I seen the type of mad rush/looting that I witnessed. Like a freakin apocalypse was happening. Is this what people are putting in their basement bomb shelters these days? Are they edible or something? Do they combat radiation? (I asked myself all the obvious questions.)
There were women walking away with 4, 5, 6 vibrators… tucked in their bags, under their arms, under their chins, and g-d knows where else. Scrambling to the floor to grab boxes that had dropped in the shuffle, like someone had busted a massive vagina piñata or something. (Which, by the way, is an awesome idea for a birthday party, right?)
Not one of these ladies seemed the least bit ashamed or embarrassed. They grabbed their swag with the same nonchalance that you would take a handful of mints on your way out of a restaurant.
I, on the other hand, smushed my one lonely vibrator to the bottom of an opaque tote, fully aware that in 3 short days some TSA agent would insist on checking my bags, only to have it resurface in front of the group of Hassidic Rabbi’s that would inevitably be behind me in line.
Psst. Rabbi, can you hide this in your hat? No? Whatever.
Now that you know how I got the number, I must ask the next question, what could one possibly do with 6 vibrators? Look, I read 50 Shades, I’m a worldly gal. I’ve even outed myself as a dry hump slut, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out the logistics of this lofty endeavor.
I drew a diagram on the plane, but stopped when the elderly gentleman to my left started clutching his chest. Plus, he was of no assistance, as I asked if he could think of any *orifices I’d missed.
So, I ripped up my diagram and pondered the other options.
Maybe some chicks are even more OCD than me, treating their vibrators as if their wet naps.
One and done.
Rip open the box, use, toss vibrator with ease into a trashcan where it circles the rim and “score.” “Honey, let’s tear into another box, shall we?” Though, as someone with OCD, who often washes every towel after a single use, I find this possible explanation rather wasteful. I mean, do you know how many horny women there are in Ethopia who can’t afford a vibrator? I don’t know either, but I imagine the stats are astronomical.
Why, just one of your 6 vibrators could probably satisfy an entire village. I bet you didn’t think of that when you haphazardly threw your barely used toy in the trash. You cold hearted waster!
You probably didn’t even recycle it, Earth killer!
I sincerely hope I’m on the wrong track because that line of reasoning seems unnecessarily insensitive.
I was given another explanation while questioning a woman at the an event on the last day of the conference as to how many vibrators one needs (cause that’s an awesome icebreaker… seriously, try it).
Yep, she’d taken 4, and why?
She said, “they make good gifts.”
WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT?
Oh, I know… because it’s a freaking vibrator, not a scented candle! There is not one person on earth, not even my closest friend, that I would think, I should grab one of these for her. She loves to be sexually pleasured with and without her husband and so this is a truly thoughtful gift.
I mean I could get her a mug, but that’s generic and we’re tighter than “generic mug friends.” I could give her some of my beauty swag, but we’re not that tight and I don’t share that shit. Nay, a vibrator says, I thought of you in my travels and I want you to have better, more frequent orgasms. If that’s not friendship, I don’t know what is.
Oh, and while I’m here, I should grab one for my mother and the dog sitter, and oooh, my son’s teacher. I never have anything for teacher appreciation day and I bet none of her other student’s parents take a second to consider her vagina.
Wait, I hear they’re giving a big tub of lube at the Banshee party, so I should make sure to swing by there because a true friend would consider possible vaginal dryness.
I know, you wish you were my friend now. But alas I only got 1 Tri-Phoria, so don’t try to become close with me in the hopes of getting free sex toys.
Plus, I’ll know that’s why you’re calling to have coffee.
So, Blogher was a success, here’s my highlight reel in case you were there — or wanted to be there — or know peeps who were there — or you’re one of those people who loves reading the credits. If not, feel free to tell me how many vibrators you think it takes to satisfy a blogger.
My amazing roomie, Rachel Blaufeld from Back n’ Groove Mom, who was the perfect sidekick! She dealt with all of my bra inserts floating around the room and may be the only person, other than my mom and college rommie that walks around topless to cool off. Thanks for making me feel at home!
Lunches, dinners, and breakfasts with Rach and the rest of my awesome posse: Jenny Feldon, of Karma Continued…, who won a Voice of the Year award because she’s freaking funny and insightful. Diane Mizota, who’s a PopChip diva because she’s gorg and smart. Jessica Cohen, of Found the Marbles, who was a breath of fresh air and a true highlight of my trip. Wendy, of Confessions of the Id, who made Saturday night a hilarious night full of confessions and things that should only be said in a confessional! And Kim Tracy Prince, of House of Prince, who’s an honorary Jenny, because she’s hot and hilarious and frankly, I like to tell myself that all Jenny’s are these things. No need to comment back, it helps me sleep.
My iVoice kindred mamas including, the dry and witty Christine, of TheAums, and the outrageous and smart Liz Henry, of SixYearItch… Sharon Rowley from Momof6, who could make the writers at Real Simple feel unorganized.
Breakfast with Stacy Debroff, of Mom Central, who is bubbly and bright and ALWAYS in my corner, even though she rudely did not finish her $35 croissant. Whateve Stacy, whateve!
Meeting some of the people who have helped set my course in this biz more than they will ever know: Beth Feldman, the mayor of all bloggers and founder of Role Mommy and ProjectYouMagazine, who put on a fabulous event for Zarbee’s where Liz Gumbinner (Mom101) kicked ass. My dear friend Jennie Baird, from BabyNameWizard, who introduced me to more people than I can count, including Diane Randall Jones from iVillage, who gave me one of my first gigs — Do you Have Nanny Envy? — I also got to meet her, in person!
A toast with my favorite Huff Po editors and my Huff Po idol Lisa Belkin, not to mention my new LA friends who thankfully crashed that cocktail: Stefanie Wilder Taylor, of Baby on Bored and Courtney Rundell of BeePea, who is down right crazy, no really… and there will be a West Coast reunion.
Meeting the fabulous duo, Audrey McClelland of MomGenerations and Vera Sweeney of Lady and the Blog, who generously invited me to their beauty suite where I met Stacey Zelek, who I bonded with over our whorish ways (with beauty products people, sheesh).
The guys of Blogher: Ted Rubin from Collective Bias, who’s always so kind and complimentary and Adam Keats from Weber Shandwick, who sat down to give me thoughts and advice over 80 dollars worth of tea (which was on the house, thank goodness, cause that’s some crazy expensive tea).
An awesome dinner put together by one of my favorite networkers, Ciaran Blumenfeld of Momfluential, where Charlene Santos from Gal Time and Sarah Malkin from The Mom View Network were in attendance… I look forward to working with you both, and may we make some great videos together!!!
I wish I had a bit more time with one of my faves, Jill Smokler (Scary Mommy) a fellow Baltimore chick! My girl, Tracy Beckerman from Lost in Suburbia, plus new peeps Heather Greenwood Davis, who amazingly uprooted her fam to travel the globe and Jenny Hembree who made the “Running Man” look almost as good as my “Cabbage Patch,” and fellow Jewish mama, Melissa Chapman.
And of course, a special thanks to Ben Sussna and Trojan for providing the fodder for this blog.