Just a half hour before the trade show that I attended last week started, I walked around to look at the other booths to see what was new and who was there and gather general info about the industry and my competition. If I haven't posted it before, I am part owner of a family business and we sell physical therapy exercise equipment like latex bands, tubes, stability balls, range of motion pulleys and the like. Most vendors at the display booths were selling similar equipment or recruiting for jobs or schools, or selling software, or selling large, bulky, and expensive medical equipment. You also see some of the chiropractic quacks with their natural cures and back cracking equipment.
Just having completed my look-see around the hall I wandered up to my booth and said hello to the guy in the booth next to me. I glanced down at his medical devices and products to see what he was selling and saw a weird oval pump with a tubular attachment. The sign above it read, "Clitoral Pump". I continued to walk towards my booth and suddenly my brain screamed, "Did that just say clitoral pump?!!"
I must've been seeing things. It had to have said, "Clinical pump."
I spun around to double check and noticed the guy start to giggle. Sure enough, it was a clitoral pump. Not only that, but upon closer inspection, he had all sorts of plastic phallic "vaginal dilators that vibrate" and lubricants and a life size female pelvic model.
This guy was selling sex toys!
He was calling them "medical therapeutic devices for women's health", and instead of pornographic pictures on the box they were stark white and clinical. But let's call a spade a spade here, he had dildoes, vibrators, clit pumps, lube and sexual position instructional books. Most of his stuff could be found in an adult book store.
"Hahaha! I get that double take all the time!" said the man who was minding the booth.
"You're a thinly veiled smut peddler!" I remarked back while holding up the clitoral pump.
"Well, women who have diabetes issues with circulation and..." I interupted him before he could finish pleading his case, "You don't have to tell me, I understand completely. Besides, there's nothing to be ashamed of, sex is fun and natural and completely healthy. It probably does wonders for healing. Better than that back straightening device, I bet." I pointed to the booth across from me where the yoga guy who I nearly chewed up and spit out hours earlier from travel frustration was hanging upsidedown on a torture-like device. (see earlier blog about him) I continued my unsolicited thoughts on sex and ended with the phrase, "You're doing God's work."
It was fun for the rest of the show watching others do the same thing as I did and do double takes. There were alot of fine looking young women PT students at the show and I was certainly tempted to ask a few if they wanted to try out some of the equipment in my hotel room later that night. You know- for science. But alas, I don't think Lynn would completely understand my thirst for scientific endeavors and knowledge that could benefit all of woman kind, so I kept quiet and sold my comparatively boring latex items, straps, cuffs and balls.