Some things I did and thought about and observed on my way to and from the sex toy store


Walked down a busy street running through several towns, passed a building painted yellow, orange, purple, with something written above the door in gothic script. I really wanted it to be a spiritual or joyous message because of the exclamation point at the end and the birthday cake paintjob of the building but when I got closer I saw that it just said ‘The Sink Factory!’ which would normally be satisfying but I have been feeling like I’m on a pilgrimage of sorts, searching for purity or something, and I was looking for inspiration in gothic script.

Wanted to smoke the last half of a spliff I started earlier at home. I walked quickly and got in front of this Berkeley hippie looking dude in a ‘no fear’ tshirt and waited until there was enough distance between us and lit it, but by this time the untrodden area I was walking in had become strip malls and Thai food places and I passed by a family with two kids getting into their car parked in the parking lot I was passing by and hid the spliff in my hand until I had passed them.

Passed an old white man with white hair and a white mustache wearing a Members Only jacket and a black ball cap with the word ‘Compton’ spelled out in the same letters as the sign above the door of the place I had wished was a church.

Used my phone to get directions on how to get to the sex toy store but as I got close and figured out where I was I exited out so that the weird voice on my phone didn’t say ‘you have reached your destination’ before I walked into the store, notifying everyone passing outside that I needed to googlemap to get a vibrator.

Got carded at the sex toy store by a lady putting away dildos. She told me that I have a young face, then told me to let her know if I have any questions. I said thank you to both things. When I went to the counter to pay for the vibrator the same lady checked me out at the counter, like she took my money for my purchase. Told her I didn’t need a bag and put the vibrator box in my purse.

Thought about writing some things when I got home with the vibrator, but only after trying out the vibrator.

Listened to cocaine raps from 2007, two different albums with four different artists, and sent a bunch of snapchats.

Thought about making some netart when I got home with the vibrator, but only after trying out the vibrator.

Stopped at a bar on the walk home because the bar is close to my house and I wanted to rest for a moment and write some things down.

Thought about how I hate how people walk in California, but how I’m also kind of getting over it.

Thought about Marilyn Monroe getting arrested.

Decided I like doing things alone because I notice things more.

Wrote part of a poem about feeling like a Hitchcock character.

Thought about people I used to follow on livejournal like this one girl who wrote on her blog about her eating disorder and using meth and working in the shoe department at Macy’s and working out during two hour lunch breaks that she would take and not wearing underwear. I met her once, she came to my house, and my mom asked her if she wanted anything to drink and she didn’t even want a glass of water because she was fasting.

Thought about fasting as cleansing like emptying yourself to feel more pure when you feel used up and worthless.

Decided that I like coming to bars alone. Feeling like a freak sitting here with a notebook. It’s great.

I don’t remember the first time I ever ordered a greyhound but I’m happy I did. It’s a perfect cocktail, unless you’re drinking at a really dirty dive, because they probably don’t care about a quality grapefruit juice. I wrote this while drinking a greyhound in a dive that I really like.

Feeling older. Slightly more mature. But still don’t feel like a grownup.

Feeling like a failure and knowing it doesn’t matter but also feeling content with what I do.

Wanting to be like Ghostface.

Wanting to be better than Ghostface.

Thinking I got too drunk off two drinks.

Hating things that you probably hate more but won’t cop to.

Feeling like I want purity or the idea of it.

Left the bar and ordered a large fry at a fast food chain. A lady was on her knees behind the counter counting money in Spanish while two guys stood around idly. Asked the guy behind the counter if he could please give me a cup of water. He said sure and then went over to watch the other guy put some fries in a container. I waited a few minutes and then asked him again for a cup of water because I felt kind of drunk standing in a brightly lit store suddenly and didn’t want to be as drunk. He looked like he just remembered when I asked the second time and I felt bad about asking but I really did want some water.

Walked home and ate all the fries and smoked another spliff and got in bed to watch House, MD and forgot about the new vibrator in my bag.

About Alexandra Naughton

Alexandra Naughton is the author of I Will Always Be Your Whore and My Posey Taste Like. She is the editor of Be About It and can be found on Twitter and Tumblr.

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