Love in the Time of... For Real?

As much as I love my time out, there are definitely times when I need nothing more than to hang out in my apartment, with my jammies to keep me comfy and the television to keep me entertained. On occasion, this results in my stumbling across a great movie or new show. Most of the time, though, it means I’m going to spend way too long watching way too much crap.

Channel surfing on a Sunday night a couple of months ago, Flavor of Love became my own personal crack. I can list a million reasons why the show is immoral, degrading, racist, sexist, and just plain gross, but I couldn’t manage to turn it off. Every time Flav arranged to spend “quality time” with one of the girls, I got a little queasy. The instant I caught a glimpse of his tongue en route to one of the girls’ mouths, I damn near puked. But then I got to watch Krazy’s grandmother get cornrows, New York lose her damn mind on a daily basis, and Buckwild pretend her fake ghetto accent was real, and, well, I just couldn’t look away. I spent an hour, every Sunday night, staring at my television in horror mesmerized and wondering: “Is this for real?”

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and when Flav presented Deelishis with her very own set of golden fronts three Sundays ago, I was left with an hour-long void in my week. Whatever was I to do with this spare time? Head to the internet, of course, where I was guaranteed to find at least as many horrifically unbelievable treasures as an hour of Flavor of Love could provide me. And when I failed to entertain myself, I knew my friends would come through.

Did they ever. One fateful evening, just as I finished reading a blog one of my good friends had written on Sofia Coppola feminism (which, though very interesting and entertaining was certainly not filling the “horrific” or “unbelievable” void in my life), another friend sent me a link. It was prefaced with the message “$1500 seems a tad expensive,” but didn’t say much else. What, I wondered, could this friend have found? $1500 is… more than two month’s rent. More than I make in a month, in fact. Certainly, whatever I was about to see would be fabulously extravagant. Or terrifying… or both!

Intrigued, I opened the link. And just as if I was watching New York moon Flav for picking Deelishis all over again, I stared at my computer screen, my jaw swiftly dropping to the ground.

FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR A VIBRATOR?! And here I thought it seemed excessive for people to spend $100 on The Rabbit when it first came out, but 1500 DOLLARS? Nothing could have prepared me for this. I mean, sure, it’s gold-plated, but for $1500, that bad boy better be capable of spooning, making me breakfast in the morning, and occasionally surprising me with jewelry.

I suppose this is what staying in on my own brings me. I get to be horrified by other people seeking love on VH1, or I can be horrified by what, presumably, someone will pay for some high-end self-love. And though neither a golden grill nor vibrator ranks high on my personal wish list, once I became a bit more used to the insanity I had just encountered, I reminded my dear friend that my birthday and Valentine’s day are but six days apart. Inspired by my Sunday night activities, this year, I want to combine the two into a celebration of the love others have for me… by expecting my friends to pool their finances to get me a matching vibrator and grill.

Photo courtesy of ebay.com.