Thursday, January 20, 2011

In which I freak the fuck out about the possibility of an Ambien shopping spree

I get home from running some errands and find a brown paper wrapped box on the front porch. It's about the size of a shoe box and I'd recently ordered some cute canvas Mary Janes because I was looking for a middle ground between flip flops and Converse All Stars, so I assumed it was those shoes.

I pick it up and check the label, it says "Pleaser.com" with some return address in Southern California.

Pleaser.com?

I'd ordered the shoes off of eBay and had not ever, to my knowledge, visited this site.

But then I had a sinking feeling. I've been having major problems getting to sleep lately, so I've been dipping in to my rapidly diminishing supply of Ambien. Normally, my awake Ambien time is spent sending ill-advised emails and making ill-advised blog posts and having ill-advised IM conversations, but who's to say that I hadn't clicked on some ill-advised link and ended up at Pleaser.com?

I quickly ripped off the brown paper wrapper and was faced with this box:


Shit. Tell me that doesn't scream LUCITE HEELS or EDIBLE THONGS or SOLAR-POWERED ENVIRONMENTALLY-FRIENDLY YODA-SHAPED VIBRATOR!

Slowly I cracked open the box, half-excited and half-crapping-my-pants only to find... the cute and sensible Mary Janes I'd ordered.

And... exhale.

Of course, the masochist in me can't help but wonder what I would buy if I did try Ambien shopping...

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