I'm In Love With
Mr. Yippee
by Roz Warren
“Why is
there a gigantic sex toy sitting on your dining
room table?” Mark asked recently.
“That’s
not a gigantic sex toy,” I said. “It’s
a Wahl Hot & Cold Therapy Massager.”
“Which is?”
“An
Advanced Pain Management Device. They sent
it to me after I wrote a humor piece for the New
York Times about back pain.“
“Yeah,
but it sure looks like….”
“Something
the Jolly Green Giantess would use to get her
groove on when the Jolly Green Giant is out of
town? It certainly does. And yet the instructions
say that you’re not supposed to use it on
your “genital areas.”
I handed him
the instructions, which had been sitting on the
table with the device.
“The
lawyers made them put that in,” he scoffed.
“Because, of course, you know that’s
the first place people are going to use it. And
the lawyers want to deflect liability in case
something goes horribly wrong.”
What could go
horribly wrong? We Googled it and couldn’t
find anything. So we returned to perusing the
instructions. “It says not to use it on a
sleeping person,” I said. “Do you think
that’s a safety issue? Or a ‘don’t
be annoying‘ issue?”
“It
sounds like a philosophical issue to me. If you’re
sound asleep, you’re feeling no pain. So
there’s nothing to manage. What I want to
know is why it says FOR HOUSEHOLD USE ONLY?”
“Maybe
they’re afraid people will plug it into the
car and massage themselves as they commute?”
“Why
shouldn’t they? That could only reduce road
rage.”
“It also
says DO NOT USE OUTDOORS.“
“That
makes no sense. If the dude who trims the hedge
can use an extension cord, why can’t I?”
“According
to this, Wahl invented the first electric
massager nearly 100 years ago.”
“Impressive.
That’s a lot of orgasms… I mean pain
relief.”
I suffer from
an affliction common to writers -- mouse neck
-- which is a sharp pain in the neck and
back resulting from too much computer use.
“Let’s
take it for a spin,” I suggested.
I stretched
out on the bed and Mark plugged it in, started it
up, and proceeded to give me a soothing massage.
The device, which is slightly larger than a blow
dryer, did most of the work. Mark had only to
move it around. There are two speeds. High
(jack hammering) and low (a steady hum.) And an
assortment of snap-on tops that vary the amount
of bumpiness. Best of all, you can set it on
either hot or cold.
Massage
aficionado that I am, I took to it like a duck to
water.
“Oh that
feels great.” “A little lower.”
“That’s perfect.” “Oh my.
Keep doing that.”
Remind you of
anything? Me too. Still, if used according to the
instructions, it won’t rev you up
or turn you on. Instead, you’ll end up
utterly relaxed.
“I’m
in love,” I said after a few minutes.
Then it was
Mark’s turn to enjoy a hot vibrating massage.
“Where
have you been all my life?” he asked.
We decided
that Wahl Hot &Cold Therapy Massager was too
formal a name for something that was clearly
going to play a major part in our relationship
going forward. We decided to call the device
“Mr. Yippee.”
After 18 years
of enjoying a loving, monogamous union, we’ve
decided to open up our relationship to include Mr.
Yippee. We are a couple who does lots of
snuggling. Mr. Yippee fits in easily. We snuggle,
then take turns administering a hot vibrating
massage.
“If you
write about this,” Mark said. “Caution
your readers against using Mr. Yippee for
foreplay. They’ll end up too languid to want
to have sex.“
Mr. Yippee has
definitely enhanced the quality of our life. And,
yes, as we explored everything that Mr. Yippee
could do for us, we did break a few rules.
Nothing
horrifying happened.
I know what
you’re thinking -- can you enjoy Mr. Yippee
on your own? Absolutely. He’s ergonomically
designed, so it’s easy to go solo. But like
most things, it’s a lot more fun when you do
it with a loved one.
I know one
thing. Everyone on my holiday gift list is
getting their own Mr. Yippee this year.
In fact,
everyone on the planet should have one. There
ought to be one at the library where I work, to
help librarians chill after encounters with
difficult patrons. They certainly ought to be
mandatory at tax time. And world leaders should
be required to administer hot vibrating Mr.
Yippee massages to each other before important
negotiations.
I dream of a
world where, instead of everyone being on their
smart phones all the time, we’d each enjoy,
instead, our own portable Mr. Yippee.
If everyone
had a Mr. Yippee, would the world would be a
better, more relaxed place? I‘d love to find
out.
This
essay first appeared on www.zestnow.com
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