@loripalminteriTweets by @loripalminteri
A magic wand (I hope that every woman knows and has one) is a female pleasuring device that isn’t actually magic but might as well be. Some years ago, I had broken my magic wand. No, I will not be taking questions at this time. And so, I decided to write the manufacturer. In my email I explained that it broke and only a couple days later I got a return email saying to keep my broken product and they would send me a new one in the mail. What great customer service!
I got the new magic wand in the mail, and a couple weeks went by and despite the replacement wand working perfectly, I decided to write the company saying that this one broke. Again, they emailed me back telling me to keep the broken wand and they would send a new one. Soon, I had two perfectly functioning wands.
In my defense, if I have any defense at all which is debatable at best, this was at the height of my being completely broke. But even that is a lousy excuse for my actions that follow.
Every few weeks, I’d write this company telling them my wand broke and about once a month, I was getting free magic wands. As time went by, I had a stack of brand new and unopened magic wands on my dresser. Even I questioned my motives. “Why am I doing this? What am I even going to do with all these magic wands? What if something happens to me and someone has to come to my apartment and they see I have a stack of unopened sex toys on my dresser? What sort of psychotic nympho would I look like? Meanwhile, I’m really more of a con artist, but for what gain? I’m not reselling these things. I don’t even know what to do with all these. What IS my endgame here?”
I guess I was just getting off (pun not intended) on sticking it to “the man.” There is something addictive to this type of behavior. And while I’d never screw over an individual or small business owner, there is something satisfying about getting the best of a corporation. I suppose I also wondered at what point this company would be like, “lady, we’ve sent you eight replacement wands, you are cut off.” Which never did happen. It was I who put a stop to my own fiendish behavior. If for no other reason than the fact that I have a studio apartment with little storage, and at what point would my closet just be filled with unopened magic wands? It’s sick, is what it is. But it’s also pretty god damn funny.
I pulled this little stunt years ago and I still have some brand new wands, which I assume work. But if they don’t, will I write this company again? She asked herself, with a deviant smile.