Sorry to write another blog entry about Chris Nieratko– I hope you don’t think I am obsessed with him. He read my blog yesterday and is now convinced I want to get in his pants. I happen to really enjoy having a male friend whose penis I have never seen. At this point in my life that’s rare.
In any case, Chris was intrigued by the fact that my sex toy line carries rubber hand/ankle cuffs. He asked me about them, and I told him it was good for people who want to try some light BDSM in the bedroom, because the cuffs can restrain you enough to have some kind of kinky sex, but they aren’t impossible to get out of . He liked the concept and in his exact words he wanted a pair to “rape his wife with.”
We tried to meet up last night but it just didn’t really work. I told him I would mail him a pair, but apparently his raping could not be put off for the amount of time it takes to mail something across the country. So this morning- a few hours before his flight, I told him that I was going to get my hair done and I would bring the cuffs with me and that he could meet me at the hair salon and get them. I honestly did not think he would really show up considering how much men typically dislike women’s hair salons, combined with all the last minute bullshit that comes up before getting on a flight- I just didn’t think driving across Los Angeles to pick up a sex toy would fit into his plans for the day. However, my rubber cuffs apparently took some kind of priority in Chris Nieratko’s life. Just as I was sitting under the dryer waiting for my pink hair to turn slightly pinker, Chris showed up at the salon. He was in a rush, as my salon was about 20 minutes in the complete opposite direction from his hotel to the airport. He asked me for the cuffs- I told them they were in my car. I handed him the keys and began to explain where my car was parked in the large parking lot at the salon, along with a description of the bag in my car (to differentiate between the other 6 bags of various things in my car) in which the cuffs were in, and then stopped myself and realized this was going to be a lot easier if I just did this myself. So I told my hairdresser to give me a minute while I ran out to my car.
And then, the most twisted looking drug deal-esque thing of all time ensued as I grabbed a pair of rubber hand cuffs from my Escalade with hair dye settling in my hair, and he handed me some money. It looked something like this:
Just another day in the life!