Page 18 of The Fed Sex Man

“What does that mean?”

“I’m much more comfortable alone than I am in the presence of people I don’t know. When I’m around strangers, I’ve got this constant fear that they’re judging me. When I puked on your car and you didn’t ask me to go home, I knew you weren’t the judgmental type. Instantly, I felt comfortable. Once I’m comfortable, I’m pretty outgoing. It might seem weird but barfing on your car made me comfortable.”

“Comfortable enough to talk about sex?”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with thinking about it or talking about it.”

“What would it take to embarrass you?” I asked.

She shifted her gaze toward her purse, which was in the seat beside her. “If my purse tipped over and everything fell out.”

Naturally, I glanced at it, wishing I could see inside. “What’s in it?”

She chuckled. “What isn’t?”

“You can’t give a response like ‘I’d be embarrassed if my purse spilled’, and then not tell me what’s in it. What’s in it?”

“Things that would embarrass me? Or everything?”

“Embarrass you.”

“Six little bottles of Apple Crown, a remote controlled mini-egg, a random Xanax that wasn’t prescribed to me, a rag with barf on it, and a little Ziploc bag that’s filled with fingernail clippings. Oh, and my driver’s license. The picture’s pretty awful.”

“Is a mini-egg what I think it is?”

“Probably.”

“A dildo?”

“It’s not a dildo. It’s a vibrator.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Roughly the same as the difference between a goat and a cup of coffee.”

“A goat and a cup of coffee?” A laugh escaped me. “There’s no similarities there.”

“There is, too,” she argued.

“What are they?”

“They both taste good.”

“You’ve eaten a goat?”

“Every chance I get,” she replied. “Goat tacos are the best. Have you ever been to Mexico?”

I shook my head. “We’ll come back to the goat later. Let’s discuss the vibrator. What’s the difference between a dildo and a vibrator? I’m serious.”

The thought of her carrying a dildo in her purse, regardless of what she called it, was a huge turn-on. Visions of her diddling herself at a traffic light or while sitting in a Carl’s Jr. drive-thru rattled around in my head while I waited for her to respond.

“For future reference, a dildo,” she explained. “Is an object shaped like a dick that is used to simulate sex. A vibrator may or may not look like a dick, but it always vibrates. A dildo may or may not vibrate, but it will always resemble a penis. Mine doesn’t look like a penis, so it’s a vibrator.”

“Why’s it in your purse?” I asked.

She rested her forearms on the edge of the table and looked me dead in the eyes. “Because if it was in the only other place it belongs, the buzzing sound would distract us while we’re trying to eat.”

I grinned at the thought. “Do you take it everywhere?”