Just in time for (or to coincide with?) Valentine’s Day, I discover I’m living in the UK’s sex toy capital.
Yes, sleepy old Fleet in Hampshire, according to the news soothsayer that is The Sun newspaper.
It points to a YouGov poll that says my 40,000 neighbours buy more vibrators than anywhere in the country.
Before I moved here five years ago I didn’t even know this sweet little town, crouching down three miles from the M3, even existed. I didn’t realise Fleet Services was named after it. Doh! (Blonde for a reason is me.)
So why am I surprised it’s a hot bed of sexual activity as well? Its’s ALWAYS the quiet ones, right?
Unhappily I’m not convinced. Simply stroll down our high street. A red light district it is not. The reporter’s success in finding general sexual bits and bobs in a charity shop and Boots is hardly, ‘exhibit A My Lord’. Bet you’d find the same in any British town centre after a quick poke about.
And the people I’m getting to know here are not into that sort of thing. Whatever that sort of thing is. And being into that sort of thing, whatever it is, is a good thing. But if you’re not into that sort of thing, that’s also OK, because you might be into some other kind of thing – and that’s also OK. (Just thought I’d make myself clear.) Maybe I just haven’t got to know anyone well enough.
But I would so love it to be true. Imagine Fleet as the 2016 version of 1960s flower power California – free love man, and no inhibitions? Bring it on!
But as I survey my fellow residents miserably flitting in and out of Sainsbury’s I simply cannot see it. On a rainy grey wintery day like today there isn’t even any pretend Californian sunshine.
Which brings me to another thought. If vibrators are being used en masse here in Fleet, our good old Blightie weather would dictate they’re banished to buzzing away merrily under duvets – hidden from sight and muffled.
So maybe it’s true after all? I do hope so…