Mrs Doe And The Dildo Depot Review

By J. Wellington Wimbley Dateline: Maple Grove Estates

For 68-year-old retired librarian Mrs. Eleanor Doe, last Tuesday was supposed to be uneventful: prune the petunias, attend water aerobics, and pick up her monthly shipment of “arthritic support cushions.” Instead, she accidentally became the unwitting protagonist in the most talked-about civic drama since the HOA banned flamingos. Mrs Doe And The Dildo Depot

“Honestly, good for her,” said neighbor Patricia Meacham, 66. “She’s handled this with more class than I would have. I’d have opened a pop-up shop.” Doe’s Tudor-style bungalow

It all went wrong when a delivery driver mistakenly dropped off a large, unmarked cardboard box at Mrs. Doe’s Tudor-style bungalow. The label read: “Doe — 742 Sycamore.” The return address? The Dildo Depot — Discretion Guaranteed. held up a 14-inch purple object

“I thought it was my new lumbar pillow,” Mrs. Doe told this reporter, clutching her teacup with white-knuckled dignity. “The box was heavy, which I took as a sign of high-quality foam.”

Upon opening the package, Mrs. Doe was not met with orthopedic relief. Instead, she found an array of shimmering, silicone products in colors that do not exist in nature. The collection included “The Titan’s Scepter” (retail $89.99), “The Whistling Gopher” (batteries included), and what appeared to be a glow-in-the-dark garden trowel.

“She rang the bell at 7 a.m., held up a 14-inch purple object, and said, ‘Young man, I believe you dropped your back massager ,’” Josh recounted, still red-faced. “I wanted to die. My roommate heard everything.”