girling it up: vibrator style

In ALL, PREENING by Stephanie Klein

I went in for my annual skin screening, where you get all nekked in Tahiti and let the doctor hold a light up to your “marks of beauty,” and I left with a clean bill of health, and a vibrator.

It was The Jealousy Test in action. I was settling up with the receptionist when a leggy, fantastically gorgeous woman brushed past me asking another staffer if they’d received any more shipments. She sounded desperate, breathy, as if she were speaking of vintage Chanel selling for $40. Or of crack. I had to know what she wanted. “I’m sorry,” the receptionist responded, “It’s like I said over the phone, we’re completely sold out.”

Wait, this woman called first? Was told they had no more, and came in anyway? Hardcore.

“Well, I spoke to a friend who said you just got a new shipment in, so can you please check with someone else?”

Holy jingle balls, lady. I would never do this. I’d think it, but I’d never say it. Subtext here: You’re a moron, know nothing; you’re completely out of the loop, and I don’t trust you.

Clarisonic Heaven

The staffer offered a tight smile, then walked back to some supply area. While she was off digging, another receptionist (it’s a big place) rounded the corner with an armful of products, loading them onto the display shelves behind their counter.

“That’s it!” shrieked the Ashley Judd doppelgänger. It felt like Christmas in August, with everyone hungry for the impossible to find. “May I?” she said, her tone softening.

“Oh, well this one is reserved. But… yes, wait, yes, we have two more.”

“I was told you couldn’t reserve one. Ugh, just, I’ll take them both.”

The receptionist who’d left for an excavation returned empty-handed.

“See,” the woman said holding one of her boxes. “I told you you had them.”

The receptionist smiled, offered a friendly, “Oh, wow, sorry about that. You were right, Ma’am.”

Then someone broke the news that it was one skin vibrator per customer. And our raven-haired beauty almost ate someone.

Me.

When I asked to see the second available box. I was leaving with this thing, so help me God.

I admit it. I was drawn in by the chase, by the idea of exclusivity. But more so by what the receptionist told me about the product. They can’t keep them in stock, that clinical studies have proven their effectiveness at reducing fine lines and wrinkles, that they remove 6x more makeup compared to manual cleansing. The vibrator literature boasted a reduction in pore size, a reported improvement in firmness, tightness, elasticity, and evenness of skin tone. 61% greater absorption of Vitamin C after use (so you get the most from your anti-aging creams, moisturizers, etc). More than that, the receptionist told me that after she removed all her makeup, used her toner, she went ahead and used the Clarisonic and was shocked to see how much more makeup and pore-clogging crap was on the brush, after what normally she thought was a clean face.

“I love it even more than my other vibrator,” she mumbled as she took my credit card.

So I figured I’d share the skin love with you. “I use it every time I’m in the shower,” she told me.

“Oh, so like, once a month for me. I can do that.”

Check out the reviews. I’m about to love up on mine for the first time this morning. And, no, she didn’t really whisper the bit about her other vibrator. It was said more like the intonation of a hymn.

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