Long-Distance Retail Therapy

He Says...

Believe it or not, Mrs Rocker and I live in a country that doesn’t have an adult shop.  Nil.  Not a single vibrator, porn DVD or sexy lingerie anywhere to be seen.  We are green with jealousy that our favourite blogger, Lady-Like Pervert   (click here to check it out) is the official test-driver of sex-toy product range and these goods actually land on her doorstep, and an added bonus- without a policemen to arrest you at the same time for offending the National Paternalistic Conservative Psyche. We also can’t get sex toys by mail-order because of potentially embarrassing scenarios of being hauled to Customs to explain and release strange goods!  When we get inspired to embark on an X-Rated spree, we have to travel to another country, which is often a logistical nightmare because I am usually somewhere other than Mrs Rocker. (I spend so much time travelling, I enjoy a better relationship with the sniffer-dog at baggage reclaim than I do my own dogs at home).

This weekend, Mrs Rocker and I are going on an XXX-rated retail therapy expedition.  It started off a little more innocently though I swear.  I completely innocently and genuinely suggested a trip to the Big Sinful City to do some Christmas shopping for the kids.  It’s difficult to find suitable stuff where we live in the 3rd World for our beloved techno-savvy pre-teen and teen.   Now before you think how progressive it is that a MAN initiated the Christmas shopping plans and logistics, allow me to explain that this only came about because I completely cocked-up my flight arrangements.  In a valiant attempt to be back in my Work-City for a Year-End Office Party this coming Sunday, I completely painted myself into a corner and stranded myself in the Big Sinful City over a weekend, still some 2 hours flying time short of home.  What to do?  Wallow in misery by myself in the Big Sinful City for a weekend? How about let’s knock the Christmas shopping on the head?  This I suggested to Mrs Rocker, and I think she immediately saw the potential for some Hotel Sex (one of her favs, and mine too, maybe she’ll tell you why one day) thrown in for the bargain, as did I admittedly.  But I swear, it started as a flight-booking cock-up that morphed into a prezzy-hunt for the kids. And then into something else.

But we haven’t quite figured out how we are going to get the adult booty home.  We are both meeting in the Big Sinful City.  I’m flying in from one city, Mrs Rocker another.  Then I’m flying back to where I started, and Mrs Rocker back to where she came from.  Mrs Rocker has to get through customs and immigration of our very conservative home-country.  I don’t have to run the gauntlet of an international border laden with phallic objects and lacey things - at least, not yet.  I am flying an internal route so I have been nominated to take the haul in my suitcase and then later on this year I am likely to drive one of our cars back from the city that I spend much of my time in and I will have to hide the booty in the car.   Will I need to buy an extra suitcase?  A trailer for my car?  We’ll let you know.

You guys in the First World take your mail-order sex-toys for granted!