I found a dildo on Route 19 the other day.
And it wasn't any wimpy wang-bang-thank-you-ma'am-er, either. This thing had hulk. This thing had heft. This thing had herpes. Ok, so, I'm guessing on that last one, but I don't think it's the biggest reach I'll make today.
Anyway... I found this foot-long dong while sitting in road construction on the phone with my grandmother.
She was all like, "I think I should make two cranberry pies for Thanksgiving,"-this and "Your grandfather's urinalysis came back great,"-that, and then I was all like, "Is that a penis? Oh my god!!! It's HUGE!!! WHY IS THERE A HUGE PLASTIC PENIS ON THE HIGHWAY? Should I stop and pick it up???" And then my grandmother was all like, "Bud! Your granddaughter just found a plastic penis on the highway. Should she stop and pick it up?" And then Grandpa Bud was all like, "Why do you suppose there's a plastic penis on the highway?," and then Grandma was like, "I don't know, Bud. I'll ask her. Bekah, why do you suppose there's a plastic penis on the highway?"
That went on for a while, and by the time my grandparents and I came to the collective conclusion that I should not pick up the phony pecker but that I should stop and take a picture of it for "The Internet," traffic had moved on, and the mock member was receding in my rear view mirror.
I did plan on turning around and going back for the photo, because, duh, Instagram, but my grandmother had moved on to the next topic of discussion ("The deli stopped serving Starbucks coffee in the big coffee maker, and it's serving Caribou Coffee instead, and it tastes awful, so everyone in our 11 O'Clock Lunch Bunch is calling it 'Caribou Poo Poo...'"), and it was a busy roadway, and I didn't want my obituary to read, "Bekah Rigby perished when struck by a semi-truck while she was trying to apply the 'Clarendon' filter on her picture of a massive used dildo that had been abandoned on the highway." (Actually, I just re-read that sentence, and I'd be jazzed if that were my legit death announcement.)
Because the road construction slowed traffic enough for me to get a good gander at the forsaken fuck rod, I know that it looked super realistic, if you ignored the exaggerated girth and the affixed suction cup feature.
But here's the thing: I could be wrong.
Apparently, now that I'm damn-near geriatric at the advanced age of 32, it's practically magical that I was able to peg (pun intended) this roadside meat popsicle as what it was: a penis. Rather, if I were woke to the pictorial lexicon of horny tweens and on-the-market millennials, I'd only have given that lonely love stick a second look if it were purple and swollen.
In other words, if I were cool/turnt/lit, I wouldn't have eyeballed that particular pork sword because it wasn't an eggplant emoji.
Here's the deal: I only learned this past week that the eggplant emoji has become synonymous with dick. And apparently I'm the last to know. According to every Internet study I could find (and there are way more than you'd expect), texters are more likely to usethan they are to type out the letters p-e-n-i-s.
Following me yet? No? Well, stick with me.
I thought I had reached a low point on the "hip" scale when I was talking to my grandparents about second-hand schlongs on my drive home from a doctor's appointment. But, nope. I didn't hit generational-gap-rock-bottom until later that week when my husband, Chris, and I were texting about what he should pick up at the store.
He was at the market, and I was doing that super endearing thing where I kept adding to the grocery list I had provided him before he left. I was trying to type "eggplant" but autocorrect kept changing it to "egg salad," even though I despise egg salad, and finally I was like, "Curses!," and I used a damn emoji.
And, that, y'all spurred the text message conversation that ignited my now insatiable eggplant obsession (the black blocks of text are mine, while Chris' are in the blue bubbles):
Four Things About This:
1) I was really confused when he called me dirty. Before I could address his odd response, though, he sent the peach emoji.
2) I was about to ask my IT-employed husband just what exactly was happening when I remembered his repeated insistence that I never ask him questions when I can use Google instead. So I turned to the Internet and typed in: "eggplant emoji" and "peach emoji." Urban Dictionary did not disappoint, providing me with this on the eggplant:
And this on the peach:
3) Then I was sitting there wondering, "Is all produce some sort of phone porn?," so I typed "pineapple" into Urban Dictionary and got this:
4) Screw you, Urban Dictionary. Screw you with a literal pineapple.
So, here's the thing.
When I see an eggplant, I think "Mmmm... baba ganoush," not "Mmmm...baba ga-sploosh," you know what I mean? But apparently, if you're young, single, or willing to use technology to get off, then you look at this...
... and you think this...
(Come on, folks. I'm not going to post an actual picture of sex. That'd be tacky, and I'm trying to keep this post classy.)
I had zero clue a) that any consumable other than a banana symbolized the trouser snake, b) that people were actually using emojis to sext, and c) that my husband knew anything (let alone everything) about this whole phenomenon.
Being a hobbyist etymologist, I decided to dive into the whole history of the eggplant's rise (pun intended) to fame. And being a wife, I also decided to determine how my man knew all sorts of sexy stuff I didn't.
The latter was simple. When I confronted Chris about the origins of his knowledge, he simply responded, "Um, I use the Internet. Maybe you've heard of Reddit and/or Twitter?" Touché.
The question of how an eggplant emoji came to to make emoji peaches all wet and quiver-y, however, was not as easily answered. I'll spare you the historical diatribe, but the gas of actual news articles about the eggplant emoji explosion say it started about five years ago in Japan (because of course it did) and then somehow Chris Brown got involved (because of course he did) and then there was a panda named LuLu who broke a world record for "longest known bear sex session," and... yeah... somehow the eggplant became, like, the coolest way in the world to represent you or your lover's purple wand.
Y'all. I'm not even kidding you right now when I tell you that actual researchers have compiled actual charts of how often the eggplant emoji has been used to describe someone's wonder weasel. See? Right below here? That's a chart! It's real! It's science!
This phenomenon has blown up so much that when New York public health officials recently launched a social media campaign encouraging youngsters to seek treatment for sexual and reproductive health, the public health department created and actually displayed these ads:
But I wasn't fully convinced of the eggplant emoji's penetration (pun intended again) of pop culture until I saw the Emojibator. Yup. That's totes an eggplant emoji vibrator. And the company's page is banging (pun again intended):
So, that was my week.
I learned that my husband knows more about Internet sex than I do. I found a secondhand skin flute on the side of the road. I told my grandparents about a cast aside chode. I learned the word "chode." I discovered that a whole generation of future-sex-havers are getting their jollies by texting each other illustrations of groceries. I
bought discovered an eggplant emoji vibrator. Oh, and my husband just sent me this:
I'm not sure I want to be a human anymore.
Two things you should know:
1) You might have noticed that I used this post to expand your vocabulary. Every alternative name for penis was listed in a bold font so you can bookmark this page and refer back to it the next time you want to talk about your lap rocket.
2) This is not the first time that I have educated you on epithets for your genetalia. If you're curious what you should be calling your penis fly trap (i.e. vagina), check out this post: My Vagina Is On A Diet, And It'd Appreciate It If You'd Stop Offering It Cake.
True story: Life would be super swell if we all embraced our OMG side instead of living a Facebook-friendly existence. So, let it out. What's your favorite name for your Johnson? Have you ever once thought that yours (or the one possessed by your lover) looked like an eggplant? If you answered "yes," did you immediately seek emergency medical attention? Because you should have. Also, would you buy the Emojibator? If so, can you let me know how that works out for you? Asking for a friend... Feel free to disclose details. You're safe here.
(Note: As with all my posts regarding sex, I wrote this from my perspective as a cis-gendered heterosexual female. I'm not trying to be exclusive. I love y'all. It just gets hella wordy when I include every possible scenario.)