I was meandering behind my friend Dawn who was engrossed in hunting and gathering within the cavernous walls of B.J's Warehouse. The isles stretched out before us, a highway of commerce and modern day consumption. The florescent lights beat down on us mercilessly like an artificial and chilly sun.
Dawn was scrutinizing every label on the back of every box with the critical eye of an icy C.F.O. On occasion, she tossed fretful admonishments toward her bickering twins who were strapped into a giant grocery cart that we were wheeling around. Dawn navigated the cart the same way she navigated her lumbering S.U.V -with cheerful disregard for the rest of humanity. Her near misses seemed purposeful as though she were only testing her own reflexes.
Her twin boys were two years old. One was clearly in love with me. The other just as obviously loathed me. On all other things they seemed to agree. The lover was Oliver and my mini nemesis was Nick. As Dawn distractedly reached for super sized, discounted food stuffs one child cooed and stretched toward me fetchingly as the other fingered his tiny nostrils in contempt. Nick's gaze flicked over me with the practiced and jaundiced eye of a misogynist. As a nursing baby, when finished, Nick would shove away his mother's breast like it was an empty beer stein. Creature.
In contrast, Oliver was filled with gratitude and jubilation. He seemed to possess deep sympathies and acute observations yet to be articulated.I sensed his polite disapproval when I mouthed obscenities at his twin when no one was looking. Nick took every opportunity to pinch or kick me in passing and he did this only to me. Initially I did everything that I could to win him over. Now I didn't give a shit.
"All bets are off kid." I said to him menacingly. He responded with a petulant kick in my direction. I blew Oliver a kiss and he wiggled with delight.
"What'? Asked Dawn.
"I asked if you were able to refinance the house yet."
"We are still waiting on it. Derek thinks it will go through. God I hope so. Things have been tighter then usual. I don't know why. We are cutting cost, budgeting everything to the last dime and I got a big increase. Did I tell you that?"
She turned toward me brightly smiling and for a moment I was reminded of her pre husband and baby days. I grinned ruefully. She had been buck wild, with multiple piercings and a cadre of diverse lovers. Now she hid her tattoos under long sleeves, cut coupons and was working her way up the corporate ladder after she dropped her kids off at day care. Derek had no idea of who she had been or how wildly promiscuous she was then. Now she had made herself into the perfect wife and mother and she seemed happy. Observing this transformation over the years had been fascinating.
"Yes you did. It sounds like you are getting what you deserve." I said lightly. I meant it as I admired her greatly for her perfectionism and resourcefulness. Like her son Oliver, Dawn also had great powers of observation and had been eye balling my purchases with unspoken suspicion. I had thrown in a giant super industrial roll of Saran Wrap along with other sundry and questionable items.
I had recently read about a trick where I could wrap a subbie in plastic wrap and therefore immobilizing him naked with his arms strapped to his sides. It was called mummification and I thought it sounded hilarious. It was also an excellent method to heighten the sensation of hot wax without the mess and red marks. Men are often so hairy. I picked up mega sized baby wipes, oil, vanilla scented candles, lighters and threw that in as well. Dawn had assigned me a corner in the tub sized cart and I was careful to keep to my territory. As she had gotten older she seemed to value order more than she had in the past.
I hadn't yet told her about my foray into the dark side and I wasn't sure why I hadn't. I suppose I knew intuitively that she would disapprove. Now that she had married and produced she was a fierce proponent of monogamy and I knew she would think that I was a temptation to the family unit. I knew this wasn't true but the thought of my having to defend my present life style to an incredulous suburban Star Bucks swilling hot mommy was a formidable notion.
Since when had one of my oldest friends become one of "them"- as in The Vanillas? I was beginning to divide people in my life into different groups. There were my new kink loving friends, mostly women but some men, who were my current contemporaries in my foray into BDSM culture. I thought of them as kinksters and co conspirators of sorts. Like a a member of some elite special force, I simply couldn't share my war stories with any but my own comrades. Most of the "civilians" ( or Vanillas) just wouldn't understand my new life style. They didn't need to as it was not in my best interest to share. I only told them as much as I though each could handle. I figured this was a temporary albeit fascinating and lucrative gig.
"Why are you getting this stuff?" Dawn pointed at my growing arsenal. I knew the question was coming and I was at the fork at the road of ethics. Should I give my friend the opportunity to rise to the occasion and be supportive and understanding? Or should I continue to lie and wear protective camouflage? Maybe it would be prudent to keep "Ava" far away from the light side of the moon.
As I waffled at the finishing line of my own little morality crisis I noticed Dawn's sudden expression of distaste. I followed her flat stare and saw a very young, nubile woman swishing past us. Her tits were large and lively and seemed to bounce along like healthy puppies. Oliver trilled appreciatively as she neared and Nick grunted in frustration, pursing his lips and lunging toward her as she passed, oblivious and unencumbered by a bra or at this point in her life, gravity.
"Husband fucker" muttered Dawn as the bodacious blond disappeared out of sight, the twins still craning their fat little necks trying to keep her in their vision. With that comment I made my decision and kept my mouth shut.
"Wow, it starts early." I said to Dawn, gesturing toward her ogling boy toddlers, hoping to distract her.
"Christ. The pigs." She said wearily and fondly.
"So why the baby wipes and baby oil? Are you expecting?" she snickered at me sharp eyed as a harem eunuch.
I vaguely alluded to a casual (and non existent)lover who was also a practicing massage therapist. To head off her pointed questions I told Dawn I was strictly in it for the massage as his penis was exceptionally small and his personality almost smaller. My boring answers soon bored her and we moved onto safer, less controversial territory. Like what constitutes the perfect vanilla latte, how parking is virtually impossible in Boston and the rising costs of day care. It occurred to me with some irony, that our separate shopping lists were rather similar, what with the baby wipes and what not. However our lives and interest were subtly diverging. Lately we seemed to have less in common and even less to talk about. When we spoke, I was often on cruise control and only half listening and I caught her doing the same. I felt badly about it and like a guilty lover was often overly attentive in spurts. Like now, as I accompanied her on her errands to this warehouse of plenty which I loathed. Next stop- Walmart.
We wheeled the gargantuan plastic shopping cart, stuffed with children and other necessary items, across the parking lot toward her tank of a vehicle. As we loaded up the SUV I saw the blond flash by in a red convertible seemingly unencumbered by baggage or a worry in the world.
Just you wait, I thought, not unsympathetically.
