Traveling with Toys

My tale is a warning to those of you thinking of traveling with sex toys during your vacation.

Here’s my cautionary tale. Learn from my mistakes!

On my first trip to one of those “wild and crazy” sexy resorts with an “anything goes” M.O.,  I was so gripped by the rumors and excitement to come  I decided to turn up the heat on what promised to be an already steamy vacation. In a move I was sure would dazzle my husband, I packed a lunchbox (a real one!) full of all sorts of toys and oils (this is important).

The first rule of bringing toys on the road? TAKE THE BATTERIES OUT of anything you’re packing. I forgot this little tidbit.

Second rule? LUBE COUNTS AS A LIQUID. I’d forgotten to put mine in the mandatory Ziploc bag of my carry-on.

Third rule? Rethink anything that looks like a weapon. If you really need to go “there”, buy it at your destination. The place we were going would have totally been stocked with all types of accoutrements. I should have known better.

I remembered all of these rules just as my bag made its way down the conveyor belt and into the security machine’s tunnel.

I died a little inside. I was in definite double default. But, to make things worse, just as my bag made its way past the point of no return, I heard a noise. What was it?

I’d soon find out, because my bag was flagged immediately. As the agent brought the suitcase out, I heard it.

The bag was VIBRATING. Mercy.

My heart sank. I didn’t want my husband to know what I had yet (surprise?!) so I told him to go ahead through while I endured the checking process.

I travel for a living, so I played it off as if these things happen to me all the time. My face had a look of “Oh gosh, here we go again!” So his trusting self went off.

A non-smiling TSA agent (is there any other kind?), a female, started investigating my bag. So far it was all lingerie, stilettos, etc. Standard vacation wear, yes?

I hoped she would give me a break and let me go quickly, in the name of sisterhood.

Then she got to the lunchbox.

I cannot and will not tell you the plethora of filth I had in that box. Let’s just say “overboard” is too tame a word to use. The TSA agent went to open it and I quietly said, “Um. I don’t think you wanna go in there.” She gives me a hard look and says “Why?” I just looked at her and shook my head. Willing her to UNDERSTAND. C’mon, lady, we all know what this is! Naturally, she opens it anyway.

She gets  greeted with a big ‘ole “BUZZZZZZZZZZZ”

She looks down at the offender. And up at me. I blink. Say nothing. She says, “I’m thinking you want to take the batteries out of this?” I nod and step forward to remove the damned AAs . I wonder if this is breaking some rule, but I do it quickly and gratefully.

Now you would think this would be end of the experience and we could both put this behind us.

No. There’s more.

Remember that lube? Yeah, that was another problem.

TSA agent goes back in and I say, “I know what you’re looking for. May I?” Now, normally this is NOT ALLOWED, but we both see that this inspection needs to be OVER. She kind of steps back and I quickly find the 3.3 oz offender, show it to her and she says (with gritting teeth it seems like) “Put it in the Ziploc.”

I do. And wishing and hoping and praying that she just stops looking right the hell now. But, oh, my lady is now in a right mood and it’s not even 9 am yet. So she keeps going inside the box and fishes out..handcuffs. And a badge. Holy crap. I think quickly ‘have I broken a law? Will she think the costumes and restraints are part of some devilish, illegal Ocean’s 14 caper?” I’m sweating now and haven’t even made it to the damned island yet.

I’m almost certain I heard her say “What the fuuu…?”

But she just shuts the box-of-tricks and suitcase without a word. Not one.  Her colleague runs the bag again through machine. I get the all clear.

The TSA agent gives me a clearance nod and stare that I interpret as “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, FREAK!” and I slip my sandals on and collect my husband who was so engrossed in his mobile (yay, Facebook!), that he hadn’t looked up at all to see what had taken me so long. I smiled as if all was normal and right in the world and didn’t look back at whomever may have witnessed this foolishness.

I also prayed none of them would be on my plane. But then again, if they were heading where I was going, perhaps they wouldn’t have minded any of this at all.

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'Traveling with Toys' have 3 comments

  1. June 2, 2012 @ 2:44 pm Mommybear1 (Sherri)

    What a fun story!

  2. June 7, 2012 @ 7:59 am Vibin’ with The Vanity | You Won't Go Blind

    […] this humiliating experience, it was clear I needed to find a more discreet, less phallic travel […]

  3. June 20, 2012 @ 2:11 pm Sandy

    Hilatious story! Well for those that didn’t have to endure Attila the Hun. Such a shame some people don’t have a sense of humor or adventure.


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