Whether I’m purchasing that warming lubricant that doubles as a massage gel or an economy-sized box of tampons, I feel like I’m back in high school and buying ribbed condoms or getting spermicidal jelly for my diaphragm. Back then, the cashier and other people in line knew that I was having premarital sex. That was bad enough. Now, they’re thinking I’m a sex-crazed mother and wife who hasn’t gone through menopause yet. But I’ve come up with a foolproof plan to overcome that feeling. The last time I was in my local drugstore buying arousal gel, I pretended I was on the phone talking to my sister, asking her if the pink box was the one she wanted. I don’t even have a sister. But she and I managed to have a conversation while I waited in line to pay and while the cashier rang up my purchase. (I know it’s rude to carry on a cell phone conversation in public and I usually don’t. But I’d rather be rude than embarrassed while buying sexual health products.) On the flip side of this, I can walk into an adult fantasy store, leaving my cell phone in the car, and not blush one bit when I buy a new vibrator. I can even look the (usually) male cashier in the eye and carry on a conversation with him about the weather or ask about the warranty on my purchase. I leave there with my dignity intact because I know everybody is there for the same reason: To add something to their sex lives. What makes you blush at the cash register? Image via K-Yshopdirect.com
