Rose Marie Pink has divided the dining room table into sections: anal, cock rings, dildos, vibrators, and "other." The three or four Rubbermade tubs stacked on the floor are nearly empty now, their contents arranged like cocktail-party hors d'oeuvres. Hawking her wares, Pink is breathless with enthusiasm — an endearing quality in a sex-toy saleswoman.
More professor than Playmate, more punk than Penthouse, Pink also runs The Owl Farm, an events space off Dickerson Road that she started with business partner Jazzi Bennett in the wake of Little Hamilton's closing. But her first true love is Friction, her feminist, queer-friendly sex-toy business. She wants you to learn how to have better sex, and she'll bring you whatever's necessary to make that happen.
"Porn has hijacked the way we talk about sex," Pink says. "If we had better portrayals of sex outside of porn, I think more people would find a way to relate to their own sex lives. But we have this tendency to not talk about sex in a way that isn't reflective of porn. I know that there were older brothers getting porn for kids when I was growing up, and I'm sure that's probably still true, and will always be true. Kids are getting exposed to that faster than they're getting exposed to sex ed."
She has relationships with high-end product lines that a lot of other places don't. She brings samples of lubricants so you can tell what they feel like, and demonstration models of toys that you can touch and hold. And her bedside manner, as it were, is warm and engaging, like a boutique shop owner who's knowledgeable and patient with her clients. She even has a vulva puppet that she'll bring out if you have specific questions about which toys do what to where.
Pink had been considering the idea of Friction for a while, but she decided to dive in when OutLoud, Nashville's queer bookstore, closed in 2011.
"I'd grown up with OutLoud," Pink says, "and it was really important to me when I was younger. I didn't always feel like anybody was catering to lesbians very well, but when OutLoud closed I really felt like no one was going to be catering to lesbians. And while I wasn't thinking of [working with] queer people exclusively, I had a lot of friends in that group, and being queer myself I thought, 'Wow, no one is stocking products in Nashville that I think are better.' "
Her goal is to set up a brick-and-mortar shop at some point in the future, but for now she's content with her website, shopfriction.com, and the Tupperware-party-style sales method she employs. She keeps a calendar with her schedule on her website, so potential customers can browse and find a time and a day that works for them. Once you've made an appointment, she will drive out to meet you, unload her selection of toys — taking into account whether she's dealing with queer, straight or bi, male, female or trans — and tell you everything you need to know about them.
Part of the appeal of this type of sales method is that customers can call some of the shots and come to the buying process on their own terms. You can demand one-on-one attention in a sex shop, sure — but can you also offer your salesperson tea and play your favorite record in the background? It may not sound like much, but to a lot of potential buyers, a little bit of comfort goes a long way.
"There are people who are raised with the concept that sex isn't something you're supposed to talk about," Pink says, "and I feel good about being able to make people feel fairly comfortable with it. I don't necessarily think that I'm a 'sexpert,' but I am willing to talk about things."
