"This isn't even half over and I've already been psychologically damaged."

This is a story of an iPhone named Alice, an iPhone that belongs to Ms. K, and how through a series of twists and turns I narrowly avoided the soul searing image of watching live geriatric sex.

I'll allow you a moment to compose yourself. It's a wondrous story.

Alice the iPhone has a mischievous streak, a prankster spirit exhibited in her ability to dial people that Ms. K doesn't want to talk to and mis-send people texts that are meant for others. Sometimes her pranks are innocuous -- such as the time that Alice sent me a text meant for Ms. K's friend -- but other times Alice sows discord with glee -- such as the time I received a text that I thought was Ms. K lamely brushing me off. The confusion was later cleared up with it was revealed that the text was not meant for me.

Alice is a bad iPhone.

When I got a series of jumbled texts last Sunday, they were clearly not meant for me.

"I forget it's either Tues or Weds. It's an actual demonstration. I'm not sure why he wants to go. Strapless strap-on meaning like a feeldoe or some such"

"Yeah, it's included in the price. I actually have a couple of them. Goodtimes especially coupled with the g-spot gel, but they require some flexibility"

"rious Kegel strength. But if he's paying, whatever. I'm intrigued as to what is actually going to be demonstrated."

I texted her back letting her know that Alice was up to her usual tricks and, uh, what was this about g-spot gel, demonstrations, and owning a couple of something?? Must know!

What commenced, via text no less, was what my friend Sinclair calls the Kink Conversation -- the point in the sexual relationship between two people when a partner asks, So, what do you like? What's your kink? I had wanted to ask this question of Ms. K a couple of times, but had invariably pussed out. Ah, but leave it to Alice the iPhone to broach the subject.

Alice is a good iPhone.

Turns out the demonstration was a small seminar in how to engage in pegging (mildly NSFW link) by using a strapless strap-on. (Since the vast majority of you all are [presumably] gay and [hopefully] savvy, it's not necessary for me to go into the mechanics of the strapless strap-on use and pegging. I'll allow Goggle to satisfy your curious minds if you require more information.) Being a good friend, Ms. K had agreed to accompany her straight friend who wanted to learn more about pegging so he could be a good lover and submit to his girlfriend's kink. Ms. K even suggested that I attend too not because of the pegging but because it was more a demonstration on how to use the strapless strap-on. I considered this a possibility since I'm generally game for anything, but then I learned that the seminar was $500 (!!) per person and started at 3 pm on a workday. Ms. K seemed less worried about the price and more worried about whether there was any space for me. No no, I protested, $500 was a completely ridiculous sum to spend on such a thing. That and I can't take off work to go to a sex toy demonstration. Then I found out that my protestations were moot since the seminar was booked up.

Fast forward to Wednesday. Ms. K texted me that she was off to the demonstration and would be playing show and tell with me later that evening with the items she brought back. Awesome, I thought. But an hour and a half later Ms. K texted me again.

"This isn't even half over and I've already been psychologically damaged."

Oh no, I texted back, not worth the money?

"That would depend on how you feel about being four feet away from a guy in his early hundreds being fucked like a champ by his wife who is also in the hundred range. If that's your thing, it's worth the money."

I laughed, but probably not quite gripping the gravity of the situation.

"You laugh, I now have to wash my eyes out with Clorox."

Followed quickly by . . .

"Fucking live geriatric porn."

When Ms. K and I later met up for a drink in Prospect Heights, she was visibly distressed. "I should have know something was wrong when twelve of us entered some old couple's apartment in the Upper West Side." Turns out for the price of $500 in New York City, one can watch two people old enough to be on social security demonstrate the joys of using a strapless strap-on. If that isn't enough, you do get a gift bag filled with about $100 worth of lubes, warming gels, a vibrator, and a strapless strap-on.

For some reason I found this hilarious. I laughed and laughed till tears formed in my eyes. One shells out half a grand think that they are going to see hot people demonstrating sex toys and instead they get geriatric porn. I silently thanked the gods that I hadn't taken off work to see such a thing. I even did the math in my head -- $500 x 12 people = $6,000 - $1,200 for the gift bags = $4,800 earned for a 3 hour seminar.

Clearly I'm in the wrong line of work.

"Where did your friend hear about this thing if he didn't know that it would be demonstrated by two people in their 80s?" I asked, wiping my eyes and trying to make a serious face.

"Somewhere on the internet."

Right. A cautionary tale? Yes. One should be deeply suspicious of anything advertised on the internet. The downside for me was that the image geriatric sex was wrenched deep into Ms. K's brain by the time we left the bar for my bedroom. Let's just say it cast a pall over what was an enjoyable show and tell session with the gift bag items.