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Wednesday, February 17, 2010

green stamp sex lamp

A few days weeks months ago, Mary M. posted on the Women's Colony about her boyfriend's heirloom table lamp. She feared that when he moved in, "that hideous lamp is probably going to be the first thing he carries through the doorway." If her boyfriend is anything like my husband, Sam, he will be carrying his ugly-ass lamp straight to his urn.

On his bedside table, Sam has what he likes to call the sex lamp. It looks like this:




Yes, that's right. You saw correctly. The sex lamp looks like this:




Now, I ask you, is there anything even remotely sexy about this lamp? Of course not. But then, that's not why he calls it the sex lamp.

I laid eyes on this luminary gem soon after meeting Sam. I found it endearing, assuming as I did at the time that it represented his post-divorce poverty. But it remains on his side of the bed to this day, after many years of post-nuptial combined income bliss.

And you only thought you had bedroom decor issues.

Design challenges aside, this lamp has a strong fluorescent bulb. So bright it could light up Yankee Stadium.

Now, if there's one thing everyone in the porn industry can agree on, it's that fluorescent lighting is sexy. Says this highly sensitive person who cringes under the charged mercury vapors.

Be that as it may, I agreed to allow the sex lamp in our shared bedroom when he held it aloft and shouted "from my cold dead hands!" said he planned on keeping it. I agreed in a pleasing manner that succeeded in appearing sincere, even. I agreed because the lamp holds sentimental value for him. He acquired the lamp as a mere lad in grade school. Traded green stamps for it, even. I agreed because my feminist values dictate that home decor is not the sole dominion of women. And I agreed because, as I figured it, old lamps burn out.

But twenty years later? That butt ugly lamp is still burning.


I am finding, much to my emotional detriment, that there is truth in the old maxim: They sure don't make 'em like they used.

So why does he call it the sex lamp, you are wondering? Well, here it is. The bright spot in all of this lamp lunacy. When the sex lamp is turned on? So are my husband's good intentions. And so am I. He likes to see what he's doing when he's working his magic. And work it he does.

Which leads me to my own personal maxim: An agreement made is an agreement kept.

In short, I'm stuck with the lamp.

Until the bulb burns out. Because in this case, I don't believe in fixin' that which is broke.

And now, good reader, PLEASE please leave a comment with your sure-fire, covert means of hastening the demise of an ancient, obnoxious flourescent light bulb.

And if you haven't already, stop by The Women's Colony where this, and other real women sexplorations appear.

10 comments:

snugglebug said...

My husband is a slob and he lets me keep our apartment nice looking except for on top of his dresser... that is his domain. I have to ask permission to straighten it or else he gets a bit upset. I cringe when I look at that little area of the apartment but it his own little space to do whatever he wants. I hope he has his own play room if we ever move into a house so I can just shut the door. I'd put that lamp behind closed doors.

Jenn@ You know... that blog? said...

Got a cat? Here's what you do. THROW THE CAT at the lamp. That way you can tell him that the darn cat broke the lamp, and you were across the room when it happened. Too far to get to it before it crashed to the floor.

NO, I'm not serious. I love my cat.

Besides, if my husband had a beacon that screamed "SEX TONIGHT", I'd worship that ugly assed lamp.

Just sayin'.

Jenn@ You know... that blog? said...

I just noticed the date of this post - how did it suddenly show up in my google reader I wonder??

Magpie said...

Hmm. That is kind of ugly. But if it works...

Katherine Aucoin said...

You couldn't get him to relocate it somewhere else in the house, like a desk could you? Well maybe get a little more playful than usual as he's working his magic amd accidently get him to knock it off the night stand, that way he can't blame you.

Dr. Deb said...

This post really made me lol! I can so relate.

Agent X said...

I totally have a big puppy you can borrow that can knock that shit off and kill it. I am offering to walk her over. ;)

g said...

I commented at TWC about doing something destructive to it, but here I will be more positive.

How about throwing a nice chiffon scarf over it when it's time to ...er...turn it on. It will at least be prettier.

JCK said...

This was a wonderful story. So funny, and so absolutely true...those things that are cheap, stick around.

Cheap trix indeed. ;)

Therapeutic Ramblings said...

You know you love it, it's okay to admit it!!