eulogy for a vibrator

A few days ago, my vibrator died.

I had had Patchy Paul for almost five years. Sometime last year, some of the settings stopped working, but you know how it is when you have that thing that gets you off, completely reliably, in under 10 minutes? It used to be my hands, but as soon as I got this vibrator I knew I’d found my vibrating soul mate. And though I can still use my hands in a pinch, if I had Paulchen within reach (don’t worry, I didn’t actually call it that), Paulchen it would always be. So even when some of the settings stopped working, I didn’t give up on it. I probably spent more money on batteries last year than it would have cost to buy a new vibrator, that’s how much I loved this vibrator.

But, after some of the settings stopped working, eventually the settings that still worked started being unreliable. They would require that I hold it at a very particular angle, or that I apply firm pressure to a particular point on the battery compartment. And eventually even the strongest setting wasn’t enough for me anymore. But still, I kept on, changing the batteries every time so that the vibration would be strong enough to get me off. I can’t tell you how many times I walked over to Good Vibes to buy a replacement, and how many times I walked out empty-handed — not because they didn’t carry Patchy Paul anymore (they don’t, but they carry other Fun Factory models that are just about comparable aside from the color and ridging), but because I just couldn’t believe that another vibrator would ever be able to replace the one I had.

What was it, exactly, about this vibrator? Well, the main thing was that the vibration (on the highest setting) was quite powerful, and yet the head is small enough that it focused the vibration directly enough on my clit (as opposed to the Hitachi and Hitachi-like vibrators which have very large heads and tend to numb me without their add-ons!). It’s a dildo, so I could put it inside me, or even (one of my favorite things ever) put the head inside me and lean the shaft up so it was against my clit too. Yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmy orgasm. (I think I might be getting wet right now as I’m typing this.) AND, it wasn’t too loud. I mean, it wasn’t silent or anything, but the drone of the vibrator, even on the highest setting, could be easily drowned out by music. (Important when you have roommates.) And it was silicone, which feels lovely and is easy to clean.

But then. Tragedy struck. I was in the middle of getting off, I had just put new batteries in, it was strong enough! And everything! I was getting worked up, my breathing was uneven, I was in heavenly climbing-to-orgasm-land. And it just stopped. All of a sudden. Dead.

And I was very, very, very, very, very sad. And distraught, because there I was getting close to orgasm and my vibrator had fucking died. I had to whip out my other vibrator (which is a lovely vibrator, don’t get me wrong, but it isn’t strong enough for me) to finish the job. And it ended up taking quite a while and was immensely frustrating.

There isn’t a real point of this story except that people! My vibrator died, in the middle of my using it! You should feel sorry for me.

(PS: I still haven’t replaced it. I bought a Mystic Wand to see if maybe it was a good replacement because it’s a bit cheaper and also even stronger than the Patchy Paul, and I like strong, but I have to say the Mystic Wand is maybe too strong for me, or maybe it, like the Hitachi, is just too big and not focused enough, or maybe there’s nothing actually wrong with it except that it isn’t Patchy Paul. So honestly? I should just go out and get another Patchy Paul.)