During my lunch break, I dashed into a hair salon in London to get my nails done. Sitting in the chair next to me was a slim, pretty woman—probably in her early thirties—who, from her accent, seemed like one of us. She was getting her hair styled and chatting animatedly. Due to the noise from the hairdryer, she had to speak quite loudly, and I couldn’t help but listen in…
I caught the story halfway through, so bear with me as I recount it from the part I heard. “I’ve been racking my brain about what to get her for her birthday! She has everything, and it’s tough to surprise her. She’s not only gorgeous but a lawyer who can buy herself whatever she wants. We’ve been friends for seven years now since university, and I’ve gifted her just about everything. I wanted to give her something more exciting than another scarf. So, what would you give to someone who seemingly has it all, Jane?” she asked the hairdresser. Jane pondered, “Maybe a set of luxurious creams; those are always appreciated…”
“Exactly, Jane! So there I was wandering around the high street, and suddenly, I stumbled upon this lovely shop—kind of like Victoria’s Secret. I went in, and they had lingerie and all sorts of things for personal life. Everything was really tasteful. So, I thought—why not get her a set of scented creams from there? Because, you see, even though she’s a lawyer, her love life isn’t the best. And you know how fragrances can be quite alluring! But—oh, it didn’t go as planned. This handsome guy working there—he was quite charming—listened to my request and then proceeded to show me entirely different kinds of… items.”
“I’m not sure how it happened, Jane. I don’t know how we moved from creams to something else entirely—don’t even ask, it just did… Before I knew it, he had somehow convinced me to buy… a vibrator!”
The whole salon went silent. Jane turned off the hairdryer and said, “I’ll rub some oil into the ends of your hair—just give me five minutes.” My manicurist unplugged the nail dryer and sternly told me, “No need to dry them any more, they’re done.” Everyone gathered around, and in that small space, I scooted my chair as close as I could.
“Right off the bat, I liked this large, lavender-colored, high-tech one. He demonstrated how it worked. Oh, don’t get the wrong idea—he just waved it around in the air, of course. It buzzed a bit too loudly for my liking, but it’s quite impressive with a lot of settings.” Nobody in the salon even pretended to be occupied with their work anymore—they were all riveted.
“It came with a huge velvet box and a thick manual of instructions,” the woman continued. “So, I bought it, named it Lavender Joe, wrapped it with pink ribbons, closed my eyes, and gave it to her. Well, I thought, whatever happens, happens.”
My friend was thrilled. She had never seen anything like it before. Phew! She took it home. Upon arrival, she went through customs. They asked to inspect her handbag—the large box caught their attention. ‘What’s this?’ the customs officer sternly asked.
Watches, maybe? Bréguet, Hublot? Tourbillon? What’s it called? There’s a proud name on the box. I don’t recognize this watch brand—something new?
She froze, blushing: “No, not a watch… it’s… household equipment,” she whispered, barely audible.
What kind of household equipment comes in a box like that? Tell me more! A kettle? Curlers, maybe, haha? Open the box!
What could she do—she opened it. Everyone got so curious. The officer blushed. Those behind her in the queue craned their necks. My Lavender Joe made an unforgettable impression! He needs to be checked, insisted the officer—what if there’s something inside? Take it out of the box!
Okay, they put Joe and the box back on the conveyor belt. Dismally and ceremoniously, he slid down the belt. To my friend’s horror, Lavender Joe suddenly sprang to life, buzzing happily as if awakened by the vibrations of the belt! Buzzing and wriggling, he showcased himself in all his splendor as he disappeared into the scanning machine. Oh Lord, let the ground swallow me whole, she prayed silently.
A small crowd had gathered. A young man standing behind her whispered sultrily in her ear, “Why do you need him? I can do even better and I’m willing to buzz.”
At that moment, the cheerful, buzzing Lavender Joe emerged from the scanner and into the customs officer’s hands. Now he was cheerfully flashing a little light he apparently had, too. From behind, she heard someone stifle a giggle. “What is this? Get it under control and take your contraption,” exclaimed the exasperated officer.
Red-faced and flustered, she barely managed to escape the crowd with her half-opened box, struggling to stuff Lavender Joe back in. He poked out his lavender nose from beneath the velvet lid. Feeling incredibly conspicuous, she left with an admirer in tow, ready to buzz for her. To get him off her back, they exchanged numbers.
“Would you like a lift?” asked another passenger standing nearby. “My driver’s waiting… take your time with… him, I’ll wait.”
Lavender Joe’s adventures in the city didn’t end there.
She called me two days later, sounding annoyed—your Joe doesn’t work. Not work? I was shocked for my Lavender Joe. My first thought was—maybe he’s become impotent—he might’ve been lying idle in the shop for months, and just like with people, maybe if you don’t need him, he forgets how it’s done.
Should she take him to a repair shop? Which one?! I recommended going to Dave’s workshop—he’s quite the handyman, I said to her.
She went to Dave. Dave was intrigued too. I was proud of my Lavender Joe; he instantly inspired joy and zest for life in people! Dave’s eyes lit up; he says, “Leave it with me for a couple of hours, and by the way, you’re such a beautiful woman—I fix fridges, vacuum cleaners, and can hang chandeliers, too. Is everything alright with your home appliances? I can stop by, just let me know.”
Eventually, Joe got fixed—it turned out he needed a different adapter—and my friend ended up with a bunch of admirers, while Joe remained unused.
Everyone in the salon fell silent, pondering… Slowly, the hum of the hairdryer and nail dryer returned as people went back to their beauty routines. “And where did you say that shop was?” one of the visitors quietly asked…
