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So, when my husband started trolling the internet to find some new old bookstores on his iphone, we were both momentarily elated when he hit– a 24 hour bookstore. Imagine! Just like the diner on the highway, or the fruit market on the city corner–a place to purchase books all day and night long!! How could this be? Indies have enough trouble staying in business open 8 to 10 hours a day–how does this store do it and where can we find it?!

Scrolling down clued us in–sure it’s open 24 hours, it’s a porn store. A well established porn bookstore, I’ll have you know. From the website:

Caution–Adult content.

 “Since 1975, Gemini Books has provided a safe and comfortable space for both males and females to shop for everything from the newest and most popular lines of designer and luxury sex toys, lingerie, lubricants and massage oils, erotic products, DVDs and sex aids.  We are committed to providing body-safe, toys and products that enhance the sexual experience and intimacy of the couple as well as the individual. At Gemini Books you will have the confidence to shop in a safe and comfortable, judgment-free environment surrounded by a friendly, expert staff.” (Love the ‘judgement free’)
Just a quick question–where are the books mentioned in the name of the store–as in–Gemini Books? My husband decided to read the entire webpage content to me until I could no longer handle it–the hilarity of the descriptions had segue  into smut, and I had to stop him. I kept saying there had to be an article in there somewhere, only now that I’m trying to write one, I’m not sure there is. After his dissertation on the place, I suggested he trash his history, since he was using a company phone–you know like in the ancient past when some workers were given the privilege of driving a company car? Now instead of wheels, you have texting privileges. He quickly disposed of all trace of such a place, even though there were no photos nor was it sought by him, it was an accidental discovery-but try telling that to your boss as he looks for a vendor’s website on your phone and hits upon that little place full of inflated dolls and electric wonders. It would not be good.
You will not believe the massive amount of product this ‘bookstore’ has. And they are so delighted in being able to offer it to you, the public. They encourage your questions on their blog–(a different website I declined to visit)–be it about relationships or poses, not to worry, they are there to answer. They have a newsletter one can sign up to receive. Yes, that’s a perfect thing for my mailman to slip into the box every so often–he already knows every outstanding bill, catalog purchase, and who recently died down the block. The bookstore workforce  will give lessons on proper use of the devices they sell. Apparently they’ve not updated the website since Valentine’s Day because they ballyhoo all sorts of costumes for the ladies–apparently men get to stay as stinky feet, crotch scratching neanderthals but the women need to dress as a french maid, school girl, or private secretary. Now, I can picture the first two, since they sell them every year at Halloween, but what the hell does a ‘private secretary’ look like? Does she carry a cup of coffee for the boss at all times, while a pencil sits behind her ear and and a phone is stuck to her head?
No where on the list does there appear to be books.
Until the very bottom. One title:
50 Shades of Grey.
I believe that says it all.

 

Diane Plumley

Diane Plumley

Diane Plumley

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