by Lemuel Biedelschies, Wayward Amish Carpenter/Television Critic
Oct. 13, 2006
My wife Constance and I were two peas in a pod, in that we were suddenly ripped out of that pod and left to wither. The elders shunned us for having too good a time when we were 18 and decided to go see Red Dawn at the Lancaster 5-Plex during our Rumspringa. Handholding among the unwed was a taboo among the community.
As we sat outside the locked community house holding what remained of our purple Slush Puppies and our lives, we decided to make that sacred commitment and get married. We had to hitch a ride in to town on a hog truck since our Mums & Pops wouldn't let us use a buggy, but we didn't mind. We were in love; or at least we had a mutual interdependence after being simultaneously abandoned by everyone we knew.
In any event, our love grew, and we had such a time learning how to work things out in the English world. From go-karts to ordering in a drive-thru, we were together. Yet there was something so entirely plain about our love life. If I may be frank, as I've learned to be from drive-thrus, I must say that the hole-in-the-bedsheet-for-modesty mating technique I was told about as a teen just wasn't cutting it.
And I don't think Connie was happy, either, though she'd never say a word, she's so shy. Anywho, spicing up the old marriage covenant was on the list. We just didn't know how to go about it. Even the daring night without the bedsheet provided little lasting excitement, and frankly proved to be a bit chilly. Then we came upon Samantha's. Wow. Did that place ever teach us how to honor the Lord within the marital bed! And sometimes even the marital basement stairs, and the marital space between the cars parked in the garage, and, well you get the picture.
We were a bit tentative at first entering the store; that wall of various flavors and scents can be intimidating. But the sales clerk set us at ease. She took time to answer our questions, like whether children conceived in non-traditional positions were born with squinty eyes (The answer is no!). That day we left with several items: a pair of suggestive action dice, enchanting body lotions, and a leather-trim Santa's Helper outfit. God help us, we just kept going back. We even applied for a discount shopper's advantage card!
So now whenever Connie tackles The Great American Challenge while screaming "Stamos" and I pretend that she is Lori Laughlin during role play, we have Samantha's to thank for our awesome sex life. And Full House. But mostly Samantha's. Thanks Samantha's!