The paddle, combined with the fornicating prehistoric reptiles, suggested three things to me about the man waiting for me in the other room: He liked himself a vintage novelty item; he had a cheeky relationship to—and an unapologetic attitude toward—sex; and he was a size queen. That last one worried me. What if my “woman’s home companion”–sized endowment wasn’t big enough for him? What if he was aiming for someone in the “secretary’s delight” range? We weren’t having sex tonight anyway, so I could set those fears aside for another day.
