4 Tubes of Lube

If you have been following me on Facebook you’ll know I am engaged to be married. For the 4th time! I never anticipated having 4 husbands after I discovered the first one in bed with another woman. Or after my beloved Stew and then my beloved David died. But here I am. My fiancé Art Eckstein is a widower and a professor of history and Distinguished University Professor at the University of Maryland. Among other things, Art has just published Bad Moon Rising, a book about the Weather Underground and the FBI. He and I are very much in love. W Neither of us expected to meet another person at to share our lives.  I’ll write more about how Art & I met another time, but here is today’s story:

Ours is a long distance, bicoastal relationship. Art lives in Greenbelt Maryland, 3000 miles away from my home in Berkeley. We currently have 2 homes, his and mine. Which is not easy. Many items, including lube, need to be purchased in enough quantities for both our domiciles.

I am the older woman in the relationship at close to 74, Art is 70. – It’s not that we fuck like bunnies, but we do have sex. I realized recently we had run out of the organic lube we prefer in Greenbelt and we began to run out in Berkeley. We use a lotta lube at our age, what can I say? So off we went to Good Vibrations the best sex shop I know of in Berkeley. When the young woman sales clerk ask if she could help us, I pointed to our favorite Blossom Organic Natural Lubriant. There were only 2 on the shelf. At which point I announced, without embarrassment, in my ordinary but assertive women’s liberation voice,

” Two is not enough. We need four tubes.”

“Four? You want four?”,  I heard her a shocked reply.

I didn’t think this was in any way an extraordinary request. After all, I knew, even if the young woman  did not, that Art & I had two houses to furnish.  This particular lube is hard to find, I wanted to stock up.

“Yes sweetheart, four tubes is right,” I told myself, neglecting to explain the housing issue.

The young woman appeared stunned. Then determined. Moments later she emerged from the back of the store with what amounted to a case of lube and regarded her two silver haired customers with a befuddled but condescending look equal to mine.  I then proceeded to augment her befuddlement by opening my purse and accidentally spilling on the shop floor 4 bottles of supplements I had just purchased from my accupuncterist.  My pill bottles bounced across the floor as the young woman stared, astonished. I realized later she must have thought my supplements were viagra–or god knows what else.

Art & I  exited before we burst out laughing. We continued laughing long enough to give us both stomach aches. However bizarre Art and my request may have appeared, at least we demonstrated one thing – oldsters can enjoy sex!

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