Clean up.

I left a bullet vibe, bottle of lube and giant stainless steel dildo next to my bed and managed not to notice them as I prepped for a date a few nights ago.

At this point a pink silicone dildo has become as common a decor element as a table lamp, but I find it somewhat tragic that I'm more likely to straighten out my slightly crooked bath mat than put away my arsenal of sex toys before the guest(s) arrive.

The bedroom was the last part of my apartment tour, and I almost choked on my gum when I saw the sexual still life sitting on my bedside table. I had 20 seconds to do one of three things:

Suddenly remember I left the stove on and ask him to help me turn it off.
2. Faint.
3. Continue with the tour and hope he doesn't look to his left.

I chose option 3, and as he checked out a painting on my wall I stealthily knocked the dildo under my bed (careful to muffle the noise) and hoped the guy would assume the purple egg-shaped object was a cat toy, and the bottle next to it some kind of hand lotion.

He looked to his left but managed not to lock eyes on anything other than me. If he did notice the sex toy arrangement, he made no comment, facial expression or physical recoil to make it obvious, and the fact that he still wanted to take me out for cookies and conversation made it clear he's probably a good guy.

Originally published on

Luigi Diamanti.

LA Weekly