The Beautiful Kind

Wow, for the first time ever, I was actually excited to go to a hardware store. My guy wanted to buy ropes and hooks and lord knows what else for the big ass bondage bed he’s building for us. He also suggested shelves as part of the design for sex books and glass dildos, but I worry about them working their way to the edge when the bed rocks and conking us on the head like that creepy doll in Indiana. I suggested a built-in lube dispenser and a mini-fridge for beer, but not sure if that’s gonna happen.

Anyway, he wanted to go to Lowe’s instead of The Home Depot, which is the first glimmer of hope for me that he might be bi. The Home Depot is where blue collar wokers go to get sheet rock - Lowe’s is where gay couples go to get wall sconces.

Rope. What kind should we get? Since I’ve only gone as far as being tied up with ugly thrift store ties in the past, I wanted something soft for my skin, nothing scratchy and rough. The book we’ve been reading recommended hemp rope, but prepping that stuff sounded like a big ordeal, something a serial killer would do in preparation for his next victim - take the rope and boil it in a big pot for an hour, stirring often, then let it dry for a day or two, then carefully burn all the frayed bits off, turning the rope from a grassy green to a seasoned dark brown. Um, forget that.

I would have loved to have scored glow-in-the-dark rope, but the closest they had was this hot pink stuff that was too thin. Finally we chose this soft white nylon that, had it gone home with another person, would have been used to tie furniture to the roof of a car.

We fondled the rope in the aisle and giggled (well, I giggled).

“This will look great on you, hon,” he said.

Can’t. Wait.

- The Beautiful Kind