Let's Talk About Sex! -ME Emporium

So let’s talk sex! I visited the ‘me emporium’ in November last year with the CEO and founder of ME Emporium, Tristen Simms. If you know me, you’ll know I’m unafraid to take a walk on the wild side, but this was different. It wasn’t my personal wild side, but it was definitely some entertainment I could get jiggy with. I have yet to test out Tristen’s ME Emporium products, but she showed me the physical ailments of the ‘emporium’ and what it should mean to people who truly want to feel satisfied in ways unspeakable. In ways, for me, unimaginable before we met for our interview. Tristen showed me how she stood by the ideology of ‘me’ being the emporium that should be satiated in charming, classy, and sultry ways.

She took me to Tokyo Valentino in Buckhead, Atlanta, and I was culture shocked by the sexually free world people truly immersed themselves in. “Why not take a walk on the wild side?” Is what I want to think crossed through her mind before failing to brief me on the literal sex rooms at the bottom floor of the store. Of course security ID checks everyone before entering the “video rooms,” but it was really the liability of no one underage getting a taste of something they weren’t yet mature enough to handle. A man was waiting by the hallway door after we finished our ID checks, and he ushered Tristen and I to follow him. Like a dummy I did, simply thinking that the man wanted to take us on a tour. The hallway was short and immediately turned to other hallways that were just as dim or unlit. Tristen said nothing as I let this man usher me through the hall, but it was when he touched my back —it felt almost like a caress. I pulled away and said, “don’t touch me, thank you.” But then, we reached our short destination which was a door. I didn’t know him so I looked at him crazy, and then I looked at Tristen because I was about to hit this fool for trying to get me to go into a room with him. He didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak his language, but “no” is a universal word. I walked away tight asking Tristen if she saw that, but she was chuckling. After two more men tried to get at me and I snapped on them, she intervened and said “stop you’re going to get us kicked out.” She told me I had consented without knowing I did to the first guy, but that’s what people came here for —sex.

The lightbulb went off in my head, but I still kept my cool. I understood why people

were trying to get at me now, but I still think some of the men were not trying to take “no” as an answer. One man approached me with eyes as wide as a deer at headlights, and asked me for company. I declined. We went to the bathroom to take selfies, and the man was standing at the end of the hall watching us. We walked past him in the opposite direction up the stairs to a room that had a tall cage in the center. I jokingly went inside and began to dance, and a small wave of men followed us inside and circled the cage. Tristen also slowly circled the cage closing the doors, and said, “Make your money girl.” I pushed the door open and walked out since that wasn’t my cup of tea. As we walked away Tristen told me she bumped into a man behind her when I opened the caged doors, and his penis was out. The man who kept following me was also outside of the cage room. Tristen and I kept walking, and the sausage party trailed the kitties. We pushed open one of the video rooms to get away from the swarm of guys. The pornography wasn’t for free, but we still got down to something that was—music. Tristen turned on Cardi B’s “W.A.P.,” and we danced in the small cubicle. Tristen whispered to me that the man in the cubicle next to us was watching us through the glory hole as we danced. I laughed a little, but she also told me that we could not make fun of people for being sexually free either, because this is what they come to Tokyo Valentino for. And, we can also get kicked out for not abiding by this. We danced a little more and took a few more selfies then left to find more ventures. The creepy man was outside the cubicle room too!


We held each other’s hands as we walked at a casual pace. Tristen told me that security are usually at every corner, but perhaps the lights were too dim to make out the perverted men from the security men. A large dancehall became our next location to get down to since no one had encountered this space yet. The music was loud and a huge mirror was displayed before us. Maybe the men heard us laughing, but the nest flew in, and soon enough we had a mini crowd. I’m fine with the cautions of, “you may look but you cannot touch,” but the men in Tokyo were thirsty for kitty that night --they were awfully close. So we dismissed ourselves from the dancehall.


We walked up and down the three floors, passing one woman giving fellatio on a large open mattress in a spacious room, and two men behind her watching. We continued to curve men left and right telling them we were each other’s girlfriends, or simply, “no,” but the swarms still followed us. We strode up the stairs to a pole room with lounge couches. The group of men followed us, passing the woman giving fellatio, and missing the one woman on the pole. I don’t know what they thought was about to go down between Tristen and I, but I was ready to slap everyone with choice words. The lounge couches were sectioned like a small maze, so we were at a dead end of our tour with no other exits to scaddaddle to. Suddenly, a man walked up confidently to us and asked if he could sit next to us. I told him, “no,” and he asked could he take a seat in the chair next to us then. He still somewhat sat down next to me, and I ushered for him to move further away. As soon as he sat down though, the whole group of men waiting for Tristen and I to perform cleared away.

The man claimed a lot of things which were very funny. He claimed he wanted to

chivalrously approach us since we were the only two women in the club. He claimed he was from New York. He also claimed that he was not remotely interested in the sexual escapades going on in Tokyo Valentino. We firstly thanked him for clearing out the nuisances following us since they clearly did not understand “no” tonight. Tristen told the guy I was new to the scene, which he claimed he was virgin to as well. He also stated how he was from New York, which Tristen immediately debunked saying, “you don’t sound like you’re from New York.” He then followed up saying, “Well I grew up in Connecticut, and moved to New York.” Tristen responded, “That’s probably it. We went to school with New York people. They’re rude.” He responded again, “but I moved around a lot.” We both probably said, “yeah okay,” in our heads. He continued to talk about why he was there, and then brought up the woman giving head on the mattress. He said, “I don’t want to be lined up behind some niggas to get head.” Tristen asked him to repeat it, and he did. She said she didn’t see a woman giving head on a bed. He quickly responded to her, “do you want to see it.” She politely declined, and asked him, “do you want to see it.”


We spent another ten minutes climbing the three flights, but the males cornered every angle we turned so we danced a little more than left. I felt a newness as I drove home. Sex was not alien to me, but seeing people be content with sex openly was. I enjoyed the experience more than I expected.




Kandice Fowlkes

Chief Executive Officer

Vinyle zine

Savvi Word Tech

www.vinylezine.com

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