- Opinion
- 09 Apr 01
Liam Fay spends a day behind the counter of the Condom Power store in Dublin, Ireland’s only condomerie and sex shop, and a place where there is no shortage of “realistic vibrating buttocks.”
It’s easy to spot the first-timers. They walk down the steps into Condom Power and immediately begin reading the posters on the walls. For maybe ten or fifteen minutes, they’ll become totally absorbed in the rack of greeting cards. Most of them furrow their brows and maintain expressions of intense concentration.
Gradually, however, they begin to cast furtive glances at the displays of condoms and sex toys. After another five minutes, they’ll start to sidle up towards that side of the shop. At this point, the really nervous ones usually start to whistle.
“It can take over half an hour before some of them even approach the counter,” insists Terry Power, proprietor of Condom Power on Dublin’s Dame Street, Ireland’s only condomerie and sex shop. “When they’re ready, they’ll eventually look my way; then I’ll just ask if there’s any thing I can get them. It’s a real skill knowing when to say that. If you go in too quick, you might frighten them away. If you leave it too long, some of them will lose their nerve and run off. But it’s important to break the ice and get a bit of dialogue going. There’s no reason for people to feel uneasy in a place like this. Everything you see is legal so you’re not doing anything wrong. It’s as legal and as respectable as going to the supermarket.”
For some Irish people, buying a packet of skins is still a traumatic experience. Hundreds if not thousands of blokes in particular would prefer to die than go into a chemist and admit that yes, they are arrogant and disgusting enough to believe that at some point in the relatively near future they are actually going to, well, park the Pontiac. I know guys who would rather be found in possession of Semtex than rubbers. Some of them would willingly stage an armed robbery on their local pharmacy if it meant they could wear a balaclava while they added a pack of Mates Ultrasafe to their swag bag.
Vending machines, of course, go some way towards providing an acceptably anonymous transaction for the sheath-shy. However, even the most elaborate vending machine has a limited range and has little to offer in the way of customer service or personal advice. Most of them also have those shiny chrome surfaces which reflect your revolting, lust-crazed face back at you just as you insert your greasy, sweat-stained coin into the loathsome Satanic slot.
Hence the need for emporia such as Condom Power, specialist one-stop-shops designed to fulfil all your prophylactic needs. Terry Power first opened for business back in November ’92 on Temple Lane but moved to his current Dame Street basement premises when the noise and inconvenience caused by construction work in the Temple Bar area became too much to handle. Alongside a veritable cornucopia of condoms (edible, coloured, ribbed, studded, novelties etc. etc.), he stocks a full range of sex toys, everything from dildos and vibrators to leather-thonged whips and nipple clamps. Trade has been so good during the past two years that he now plans to open an even bigger city-centre store in the new year.
“Look at me,” says Terry. “I’m just an ordinary-looking guy in a pair of jeans and a shirt. People find it easier to talk to me than to some stuck-up fella in a white coat and a shirt and tie, in a chemist. Men and women find it easy to come in and discuss condoms and ask questions about what’s good and what’s not. I’ve had women come in here and stand for twenty minutes talking about sex and condoms. It’s very relaxed, very informal. There’s no pressure.”
Spending a day behind the Condom Power counter is an education in itself. For one thing, you learn a lot about the workings of other people’s body clocks. Personally, I’ve always regarded sex as a post meridiem activity, something which shouldn’t really be tackled until after, say, The Gerry Ryan Show has gone off air and Larry Gogan is gearing up for his Golden Hour. A sizeable percentage of the Dublin population, however, seem to have very different ideas.
“I open up most mornings at about 9.15,” explains Terry. “And, from then until about 11 can be the busiest time of the day. Some mornings if I’m waiting on a delivery I’ll be in here at 8.30 and I’ll get people coming in even then. You might think that sex would be the last thing on their minds at that hour of the morning but it can also be the first thing on their minds.
“They might want to buy a particular sex toy or magazine and they’re nervous so they’ll get it over with first thing so that they can relax for the rest of the day. Or else, they might have a big date that night and the fact that they’ve bought their condoms early excites them for the rest of the day. It gives them something to look forward to.”
Terry has noticed other trends too. On Tuesdays, for instance, there always seems to be extra demand for fruit-flavoured condoms.
“There’s no rhyme or reason why,” he says. “I used to ask if there was some sort of fruit-flavoured condom convention on Tuesday nights ’cause from early morning onwards it’s all fruit flavoured condoms, but there isn’t as far as I know. It’s just one of those curious things. The only other certainty like that is Saturday mornings. A lot of people, especially the gay customers, buy their magazines on a Saturday morning.”
As we speak, an Italian student-type drops by. She is, she tells Terry, a condom collector. “I have condoms from all over Europe, nearly every country,” she declares before asking to see a selection of indigenous Irish johnnies. Unfortunately, apart from the British-made Irish Rovers, the larder is bare. We are, apparently, a country without a national sheath to run up the European flagpole and salute.
Undaunted though, our Italian friend buys a handful of green coloured ticklers and a couple of selection packs. “They’re the ones that spend the money, the Italians,” Terry confides after she leaves. “The Spanish don’t spend, the Americans don’t but the Italians and the Germans do. This place is always full of Italians and Germans during the Summer.”
Throughout the day, small troupes of kids of various ages wander in and out. The house rule is that they’re welcome, provided they stay down at the condoms and novelties end of the shop and away from the displays of adult toys.
“If a 13 or 14-year-old asked to buy condoms, I would have no problem with that,” Terry asserts. “Let’s face it, if I don’t sell a sexually active teenager a condom, it doesn’t mean that he or she isn’t going to have sex. And, if a mother or father came in to complain afterwards, I’d bring them down to meet some friends of mine who have the HIV virus.
“I come from Dublin 12 but I went to school in Dublin 8 which is Fatima Mansions, St. Teresa’s Gardens and places like that which have the highest HIV infection rate in the country. I know a lot of people who have the virus and a lot of people close to me have died from AIDS-related diseases. I’m in this business to make money, obviously, but there is another side to this too and I take this whole safe sex thing very seriously.”
Two gay guys pop in. One is short, tubby and very camp. His partner is tall, athletic and macho. As a couple though, they know exactly what they want.
“Give us two cock rings, six blackjacks (jet black, durable condoms ‘ideal for anal fun’) and a ball distender,” requests the jock.
“I’ll have one of those fleshy dildos with the movable balls?,” asserts his diminutive pal. “And what is this stuff in the jar, sex dragées?”
Sex dragées, explains Terry, are aphrodisiacs. “Each different coloured dragée is designed to be taken with breakfast, lunch, dinner or supper to keep you in top readiness for sexual encounters,” he elaborates, reading from the back of the jar. By the looks of things, however, this particular duo are already in top readiness for sex so they pass on the dragées, and make their way up the stairs with a discernible spring in their steps.
Later, Terry takes a call from a man in Wicklow enquiring about the price of the Lovely Feeler. He says that a friend bought one from Condom Power on mail order last month and now he would like to purchase one for himself. The Lovely Feeler is a pair of yellow latex breasts or “beautiful Chinese girl’s breasts”, as they are described in the catalogue.
The idea is that you fill them with warm water in order to stimulate real body temperature and then you, eh, I think I’ll let the “instruction” leaflet explain what you do next: “Super for sucking and comforting to ease away the tension of the day. Or why not masturbate between these beauteous orbs.” Told that the Lovely Feeler is a bargain at £11.99, the man from Wicklow says that he will have to think about it for a while and will ring back next week.
Terry shows me his mail order register. A large hardback copybook filled with the names and addresses of hundreds of regular buyers who account for about 40% of his overall business. A cursory flick through reveals that Cork, Limerick and Kilkenny are the most widely-represented counties. Unfortunately, I’m unable to spot any really interesting addresses such as a parochial house or a Bishop’s palace. There is, however, the headmaster of a national school in rural Galway who prefers to have his catalogue purchases delivered to his place of work. Perhaps, he just likes to keep up with new developments in the area of discipline and corporal punishment.
Today, the post includes a letter from a regular customer in Kerry whose blow-up love doll (Desiree) has just sprung a puncture. This, Terry insists, is not all that unusual especially among clients who “get a lot of wear” out of their dolls. The prognosis for Desiree is good, however. A mere £2.95 will purchase the complete Love Doll Repair Kit comprising “discrete flesh coloured latex patches” and a tube of adhesive solution. So, you see, your dad was right when he told you that all that fiddling about with bicycle tyre inner tubes would stand to you in later years.
One of the most popular items in the blow-up range at the moment is the Lusty Leslie Bisexual Love Doll. At only £79, Leslie comes with “soft flesh-like skin, ripe young breasts, curvaceous hips & legs, long silky hair, loving mouth, inviting anus, luscious vagina PLUS a pair of latex dildo pants with a multi-speed vibrating 23cm penis.” Incidentally, while the female love dolls all have names such as Desiree, Brigitta and Marika, the sole male love doll is called Kevin.
For those with more traditional tastes but larger budgets, there’s the Wanking Glenda Doll at £199. Battery operated, Glenda boasts “a vibrating gripper hand.” According to the blurb on the box, she can take “300lbs before complaining.” A true virtuoso, she can “take you orally, anally, vaginally or she can TOSS YOU OFF something rotten.” The Ultimate Fantasy Love Doll, Glenda’s crowning glories are her “unbelievably realistic vibrating buttocks.”
The devil, we are often told, makes work for idle hands. I’ve always found this to be a rather unimpressive boast. It makes old Lucifer sound like nothing more than the director of a FAS course. Surely, the font of all evil can manage to come up with something a little more depraved than “work” for those idle hands.
Either way, with stores like Condom Power around, there really is no need to allow your hands to be idle any more. In its own way, Terry Power is doing us all a Christian service as he fights against the twin sins of sloth and indolence. Condoms and sex toys are God’s way of telling us that we’re spending too much time slumped in front of the TV set.
Power is determined to expand his business as soon as possible. He believes that the “sex market” in Ireland is huge and untapped. The only areas he emphatically refuses to touch are hardcore S&M and child pornography.
“I’ve never been asked for anything like that but if someone did come in looking for child porn, I’d tell them it costs £150 for a tape,” he insists. “Then, I’d take the money and tell him to come back tomorrow and collect it. The next day, I’d give him a blank tape and donate the £150 to a children’s hospital or some other charity. I just don’t want to deal with that kind of thing.”
Terry loves his job and relishes the prospect of getting to know his customers well and finding out what exactly their needs are. Selectivity is all, in the sex business.
“For example, there’s no penetration in a spanking tape,” he explains. “If you sell a spanking tape to someone and there’s sex in it, that person will probably come back disgusted. They don’t have sex in those tapes. You just have one bird leaning over a table or a chair and another bird or a bloke with a paddle or a whip or a cane just spanking away until the two cheeks get redder and redder. People only want the specific thing that they’re interested in. If they’re into spanking, that’s all they want to see.”
Finally then, what does Terry Power believe is the golden rule for a successful sex shop business?
“Only have blokes behind the counter,” he proclaims. “If someone comes in, man or woman, they get nervous if there’s a bird behind the counter. People just feel more comfortable dealing with men when it comes to things like condoms and sex toys. That’s just the way it is.”