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What about B.O.B.?

Are you dating B.O.B. ?  A lot of my friends are, and they aren’t shy about singing his praises in the bedroom.  What’s more, a lot of them are married, and most of their husbands know all about their flings with B.O.B.  Some even encourage their wives and girlfriends to be with him! 

B.O.B. stands for Battery Operated Boyfriend, the secret identity of things that go buzz in the night and cause squeals of delight.  Once relegated to the plain brown wrapper mailorder and secreted away in shame, vibrators are coming out of the nightstands in all their twirling, whirring, purring glory.  When soccer moms get together for party plan sales event at a hostess’ house, that’s not Tupperware they’re buying, those are toys for big girls and boys.  Playthings with names like The Magic Bullet, the Eager Beaver, and the legendary wascally Rabbit of Sex In The City fame.

I have never been to one of these Passions parties, but I’m not saying I wouldn’t go if asked.  Yvonne from Joy Unexpected wrote about her Passion party experience and I almost needed Depends to read her account of the Girls Gone Wild, Suburban Housewife Edition that ensued.  Even if I wasn’t in the market for a B.O.B. of my own to date, you can bet I’d be all over that action, and I swear to Bob I’ma gonna take photos!

The joy buzzers that intrigue me most are not the edible undies or Long Dong Silvers.  Nope, the B.O.Bs that set my imagination  in motion are the James Bonds of the B.O.B. world, what I like to call the “Stealth B.O.B.s.”  These are the pleasure wands that go incognito: that lipstick in your girlfriend’s purse?  Um, you might not want to borrow that, no matter how great the shade!  (But you really might want to get your own!)  Ditto with her nail polish: it may not be her nails she’s been polishing.  There are Stealth B.O.B.s that masquerade as flashlights (“oh!  the lights!  they are flashing!”)  and as keychains.  But my absolute fav has got to be the sweet faced little rubber ducky that looks for all the world like the one favored by Ernie on Sesame Street.  No wonder he is so crazy about that rubber ducky!  It brings a whole new meaning to the little ditty he sings, “Rubber ducky, you’re th one!  You make bath time lots of fun!”

You’re probably wondering if I, um, rub my duckie.  Well, tell you what, you show me your nightstand and I’ll show you mine!  Inquiring minds want to know:  Have you ever been to any of these Passion parties?  If you do get down with B.O.B, does your sweetie know, and if they know, how do they feel about it? 

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to do some late night shopping…

[Edited to add:  I chickened out.  My nightstand is sadly empty.  I just pictured my dad getting the mail and seeing the package and mistaking it for my mom’s medical supplies or something and thinking “Hmmm….wonder what kind of wound care you do with this here thing?”  Seriously, do you remember the “electric ear cleaner” from the movie Parenthood?]

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