Love and handcuffs: The meaning of romance found in Madison sex shops

by

With only a handful of shopping days left before Valentine's Day, I'm feeling the pressure. I'm sitting in my idling car listening to Delilah mend broken hearts with Barry Manilow and give advice to the romantically disadvantaged. But that's not me. I can come up with something, can't I?

It's our first Valentine's Day. My new date and I have been going out only three months: this has got to be good. An orchid? It could represent the fragility and beauty of a new relationship. Chocolates? Traditional, but who doesn't love the surprise center? A poem on a handmade card? Not bad, but my love isn't delicate like flowers, isn't sweet like chocolate. My love is more like... more like handcuffs. Yes, handcuffs, and maybe beer lube.

So, now with destination in mind, I'm off to shop for the perfect gift to represent my feelings. I pull into the parking lot of A Woman's Touch in the Gateway Plaza off Willy Street. It's quiet and carpeted (the word demure comes to mind), the displays are inviting and there's personal help.

"Just wash it in warm soapy water," I hear the pleasant checkout girl say as I touch the display of pink and red feathers. "And please take a chocolate," she adds with a smile. Against the back wall, I find vibrators for the bathtub named Diva Duck, double-headed helpers named "Lucy and Ethel" and "Cagney and Lacy," and suction devices I still can't quite wrap my head around. But I guess that's not what I'm supposed to do with them.

But as helpful as the book One Hour Orgasm: Learn the Venus Butterfly Technique could be, it's not exactly what I'm looking for. So I'm off again.

This time the destination is Red Letter News on East Wash, which has been around as long as I can remember and was remodeled a few years back to be more inviting. And it is. I notice the shop is open and clean as I'm greeted by a hip young man and woman. But as far as I know, it's still the only place in town with "viewing booths."

The next thing I notice is a giant penis cake pan, and next to it "Duck Off," a mini-sized doll with a "rear love hole." Portable and perfect for home or office, I think, setting it back on the shelf. I imagine my sweetie's face when he opens his very first Valentine's gift. "Here, honey...I thought of you when..."

Still, not quite right. I've heard of another place, Naughty Novelties, a former gas station out on Highway 51 north of Madison. I've been hearing about this beer lube they've invented, little bottles with names like "Hinie Can" and "Whores Light." I want to see what else they have.

I walk in and am overwhelmed by the sheer number of gifts for him and her or just you. Rows of shelves are filled with videos and magazines, while stands and wall displays are piled high with electronic devices in a variety of colors and sizes -- large, x-tra large and "America's Biggest Challenge." A little shaken, I enter the room with sexy-time outfits, platform vinyl boots, cheerleader costumes, a little lace here, a strap or two there. I think this maybe be more than my new love can handle. I move on to the lotion. In cleverly marked packages there is sticky love, slick love and silk love. Oh, love, you are my beer lube.

I have one more hope, Select Video II on the frontage road off Highway 30. I walk in and am greeted by a pretty young girl decked out in a pink transparent negligee. "Well, hello there," I say. "Oh, wait, you're a mannequin, excuse me." I push past her to the array of nightwear for men and women, t-shirts that read "Instant Lesbian, Just Add Liquor" and "Instant Stripper, Just Add Camera."

Besides clothes, there are more toys, swings, magazines, videos and board games than you can shake a stick at. "Twisted Love Ties." Hmm... I recall a conversation from a past relationship that used those three little words, only not in that order and not in the same sentence.

I'm done. I pass the Loving Lamb, the Erotic Love Piggie and the Spinning Sex Swing and head to the checkout counter. I lay the Twisted Love Ties down on the counter and, on impulse, grab the vibrating cock ring. Then, just in case I lose my nerve, I grab a box of heart-shaped dark chocolates. I hear they go great with a bottle of red wine.