So I grab it and slide it to the cashier. As I fish out change, I feel the eyes of the immigrant couple, who run the store, burning a hole in me. Of course it’s ridiculous to feel embarrassed. After all, they’re the ones stocking it. But I often wish subscriptions didn’t mean loads of junk mail. For now, I endure this Eyeball Inquisition whenever the porn mood strikes me.

Welcome to the plight of the horny woman. Of course, downloading from a home computer solves many problems. But what’s a computer-less woman like me to do?

If you look at all the porn videos and magazines available in stores, at least ¾ of them are geared to men. Playgirl is the only mainstream publication I know of aimed for women, but the recently toned-down, commercial feel of it turns me off.

Sure, some porno not specifically aimed at women still (ahem) meets my needs. But the #1 complaint of mine concerns the male performers. 90% of the time, they’re the nastiest, crustiest, grossest-looking guys I’ve ever seen. Girls dig eye candy just as much as guys. Men get to see fake double-Ds, flat stomachs, and heels. Women want pecs, a chiseled face, and a big, cleanly shaved … acting prop.

What really stops me from visiting my corner store every week, is the social stigma. Fact is, not many women buy porn videos at stores. A former female clerk at one store confirmed this. The first time I went to buy a video, I was coming straight from work – nice clothes, hair groomed, heels. I walked into the store and saw no one who looked like me. In fact, there were only men – all looking scroungy or, at best, casually sloppy. No one in a nicely pressed suit. I felt like a nerd at a frat party.

After finding a DVD, I then made the mistake of leaving the store in the middle of rush hour. So I walked past long lines of cars, all conveniently stopped because of traffic. I didn’t dare look at any of the drivers, until I finally reached my car half a block away. At which point I noticed a truck driver eyeing me and my purchase intently, in danger of becoming a spectacle himself by crashing into the bumper in front of him.

(Sigh). I’ll have to gather some courage soon. My magazines are outdated and dog-eared. And my DVD has become predictable. Hmmm, I wonder if I can borrow someone’s computer?

Aggie lives in Vancouver, BC. When not indulging in the local outdoor playground that is her city, she’s jetsetting around the world, finding interesting people and fabulous parties. She can be reached at .