I would have sued the manufacturers had it not turned out so well. They would have blamed us, told us it was our fault anyway, for not checking beforehand, but how could we have done when the damned thing arrived so late.
"God the snowdrifts!" the delivery boy gasped. Anyone would think he'd climbed the Matterhorn in order to get it to us, instead of driving three miles on an ordinary, admittedly snow covered but only a little, street. We called it that in the end too, for a laugh, to cheer ourselves up or to greet it disparagingly each time it tumbled out of the cupboard unexpectedly "God the snowdrifts" we'd say, then fall about laughing before eventually having a good fuck.
I don't know about your but there are a lot of unusable, broken down toys in my cupboard. Even things not needing batteries wear out or break down in the end. Take this dildo for instance – no I don't mean literally, I mean take it as an example. Ivory effect plastic it is, subtle yet potent, it is supposed to be, modelled as it presumably is on something monstrous out of the Alien films. Alright, if I'd wanted a bendy one I'd have gone for rubber, or one of those glittery jell ones, you know the kind. As for ivory effect plastic, you'd expect it to be rigid, wouldn't you? Yes! Well its not and never has been! It is as floppy and as wayward as a drunk. And what about these handcuffs? Forged chrome steel they are. Solid! As issued to the FBI. What for I wonder when they are so bloody useless even my cat can escape from them and he's the one with only three legs!
Look, I've got whips with chips, Corsets with no core, several cardboard tawses, a dozen at least. Leather things only any use as bookmarks, rubber things that no longer rub. Vibrators? I have one of the original "Non Doctors" as they were called then. Non it certainly is now, in spite of the two forty mains which is supposed to power it! Theres even a whole box of those little insertable eggs, every one of them with the wires pulled out. It had got so bad that even the handle on the bedroom door sheared off in disgust. So when her Rabbit broke down too we almost got a divorce. Yes it gets as fragile as that sometimes.
I made amends, which wasn't easy, all things considered. While I cleared away the smashed crockery, scraped the beans off the ceiling and pacified the cats, she bit me and drew blood, then had a tantrum. I thought for a minute she was becoming a vampire.
"The moons wrong" I said, not intending frivolity, but she hit me with the armchair anyway.
"Fulls next Monday!" I informed, by telephone from the safety of my shed "and when you are feeling a little less destructive I wonder if we might go out for something to eat?"
I had in mind a large Cow Pie like Desperate Dan might have eaten but she, poor dear, had other things on her mind.
The echoes of a lot or Pyrex smashing drowned out anything else I might have said.
I took her out anyway, later, when she'd calmed down and put some clothes on. Took her out with promises of wine and sweet music.
Which meant standing in a queue at the chipshop next to a youth wearing a ghetto blaster for a head.
She wasn't happy, even with extra chips with her large portion of cod.
"There is no romance left in the world!" she moaned, picking her teeth carelessly with a splinter off the little wooden fork that you get. "No fucking romance at all!"
I
would have smacked her but we were in company. What I mean is, most of the
village were there. It was Friday after all so everyone, simply Everyone, was
getting fish and chips.
I didn't try to touch her on the way home, not wanting an electric shock, broken arm or anything like that but she grumbled anyway, sounding more and more like her mother than the sweet woman I married originally.
I did try a few things out on her later, after a bottle of red wine had been consumed.
The sycamore rolling pin went in first. Its Victorian and nicely worn, but it was too hard for her, she said.
In quick succession she sampled the wine bottle, an aubergine and a short length of Hoover pipe.
"There is no romance left in the world!" she declared maddeningly as she dragged me outside.
In the garage we tried a jack handle, an armrest and a can of de-icer. Hell I almost fell over when she said that wasn't too bad.
"What I really, really want though" she yodelled, cumming everso fiercely all over the floor "is one of those new space age realistic lifelike vibrating pricks!" "Scarlett Johanssen has one!" she declared loudly. Search me how she knew something like that! "Like this one!" she yelled, hitting me hard with the catalogue.
I sent off for one straight away.
Winter
came while we waited and it wasn't easy. She was immensely frustrated you see!
Can I help it if it snows? No, of course not. I'm a husband not a magician though sometimes…….. sometimes I really could do things with one of them magician's staffs!
Can I help it if it snows a lot? No of course not. Even if the snow is the worst it has been for five hundred years. Don't be ridiculous!
The postman managed to get through everyday with all the heating bills but the poor blind drunk delivery man? It took him a week!
She ripped at tore at the packaging in a frenzy when it did come, weilding scissors and hacksaws with alacrity in order to cut through the tape.
The box was frighteningly gaudy when she finally got through to it.
Batteries not included a little sign told her.
"Don't worry!" I cried manfully "I anticipated that!".
Whooping like an injun she bundled me upstairs.
Do you know I don't think she'd stripped quite as fast when the repair man came to look at the oven. It must have been his lucky day.
It was a weird looking thing right enough when we got it out of its box. Halfway between a raygun and a cucumber, with knobs and curly things on it more suited to a crustacean than a vibrating dong, but she flipped open the battery compartment anyway and let out one almighty great scream.
The bloody thing was designed for a PP9 battery, and I'd gone and bought double A's.
© Aahlu. 14th Jan 2010
God the Snowdrifts
by
Aahlu
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Mon, 5th April, 2010
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