Going into the store the first time is real embarrassing, even if your mom takes you in like mine did. You have to try on all these different sizes, and the saleslady makes these really bad jokes, even though your mom is there, which I think means they ought to keep their dumb jokes to themselves.
My mom is pretty enlightened, because for one thing I've got two older sisters. So she wants me to have my own phone unit so I "won't be tempted to borrow anyone else's," as if either of my fastidious siblings would lend me hers. The idea was she'd get me one for my birthday, so I'd have time to practice before I got into any kind of, you know, dating situation.
So there we are in the fitting room, me and her and the wiseass saleslady. They have these disposables there in different sizes.
"Couldn't you two just go out and let me do this myself?" I ask.
"Of course, dear," says the saleslady. "Start with the smallest and work up to the largest one that's comfortable. We'll stay in earshot, so if you get stuck, just holler." She winks at my mom, snorts back a laugh, and they go out, pushing the curtain aside.
I pull it back, but it doesn't quite close all the way. Well, nobody's looking. I pull off my tights and try the smallest, and it fits OK. Sort of disgusting, though. I think, people do this for fun? I don't think I'm ready for it. But it's hard to admit that in front of the saleslady, so I guess I'm just going to have to go through with it. I suppose I could lose it on the way home.

Update: June, 2004: The device described in this story, which has confused so many readers, has finally been invented and is on its way to market. Warren Ellis tells us all about it. Now you know.

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