Sue’s After Dark Diaries Episode 39 | Browsing, Buzzing & Very Bad Decisions

SUE’S AFTER DARK DIARIES | EP. 39

Welcome back, darlings, to another wildly inappropriate chapter of Sue’s After-Dark Diaries, the only place where a quick coffee can spiral into public humiliation, emotional confusion and a conversation about USB charging ports that absolutely should not have happened in front of strangers.

After Episode 38’s café catastrophe, I should’ve gone home. Any sensible woman would have put Dan in a drawer, temporarily blocked Mark for personal growth and avoided Sharon for at least forty-eight hours.

Instead?

I ended up in an adult shop with all three of them.

And somehow, that still wasn’t the worst decision I made that afternoon.

Same Café. Same People. Same Terrible Decisions.

The following Saturday, I made what doctors would probably classify as a repeat offence.

I went back to the same café.

Now, in my defence, I genuinely believed enough time had passed for the universe to stop humiliating me publicly.

That belief lasted approximately forty-three seconds.

Because the moment I walked through the door, I saw Mark.

Of course I did.

Sitting in exactly the same corner as last week, like some sort of emotionally dangerous café ornament. Calm. Attractive. Smug in a way that should honestly require licensing.

And the worst part?

He looked up and smiled immediately, as though he’d been expecting me.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

Mark leaned back in his chair. “Well… if it isn’t Trouble.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You’ve already made eye contact,” he replied. “Socially, it’s too late now.”

Annoyingly accurate.

I sighed dramatically and walked over, already regretting every life choice that had brought me there.

“You know,” I muttered, sitting down, “most normal people move on after public sexual tension and psychological damage.”

Mark grinned. “And yet here you are.”

Before I could answer—

Bzzzz.

I froze.

Mark closed his eyes briefly, like a man reunited with an old friend.

“Oh good,” he said calmly. “Dan’s here too.”

“He’s resting.”

“He’s vibrating.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It’s exactly the same thing.”

I shoved my handbag closer to my leg and glared at him over the coffee menu.

Unfortunately, the glare lost some authority when Dan buzzed again.

Longer this time.

Mark smirked into his drink. “He remembers me.”

“I hate this conversation.”

“No, you don’t.”

The truly upsetting part?

He was starting to know me well enough to say that confidently.

And then, because apparently fate has a sick sense of humour, Sharon appeared.

Again.

She burst through the café doors wearing oversized sunglasses and enough chaotic energy to disrupt local weather patterns.

And in her arms?

Benji.

My own dog looked delighted to see everyone involved in ruining my peace.

“Oh, PERFECT!” Sharon announced loudly. “You’re all here already.”

I blinked. “Why do you have Benji again?”

Sharon looked genuinely surprised by the question.

“He wanted to come.”

“That’s not legally how dogs work.”

Benji immediately spotted Mark and gave a tiny, judgemental bark.

Mark nodded. “Still hates me.”

“That’s not hate,” Sharon replied, settling into the chair beside us. “That’s emotional memory.”

I dropped my head into my hands.

Not because she was wrong.

But because somehow, this had become my actual life.

Meanwhile, Dan buzzed inside my bag like he was contributing to the conversation.

Mark’s eyes flicked downwards.

“Oh,” he said slowly. “He’s active today.”

“He is not ACTIVE.”

“Interesting timing, though,” Sharon said casually.

I looked at Mark, then Sharon, then the traitorous fluffy dog, who was now happily sitting beside my chair.

Honestly?

That should have been the moment I left.

Instead, I ordered coffee.

Which was mistake number one.

Because less than twenty minutes later, we were somehow discussing vibrators again.

Coffee Ended. The Bad Decisions Continued.

The problem with Mark is that he never lets a joke die naturally.

He nurtures it.

Feeds it attention.

Turns it into a full-scale logistical operation.

“That shop’s only ten minutes away,” he said casually as we left the café, like he was suggesting a quick stop for milk rather than a direct attack on my remaining dignity.

“We are not going,” I replied.

“We’re absolutely going,” Sharon announced.

Benji barked.

Such a traitor.

I tightened my grip on my handbag, which still contained Dan, currently humming every few minutes like he was trying to remain involved in the democratic process.

“Look,” I said, trying to sound mature and emotionally evolved, “I do not need to browse vibrators in broad daylight with my ex-almost-boyfriend and my neighbour.”

Mark smiled. “That’s exactly what someone about to browse vibrators in broad daylight would say.”

“I hate your confidence.”

“You love my confidence.”

Unfortunately, that was harder to argue with than it should have been.

The Walk to the Shop Was Somehow Worse

The adult shop sat halfway down the high street, between a vape shop and a suspiciously aggressive tanning salon.

Which somehow felt exactly right.

The second we approached the entrance, Dan buzzed loudly in my bag.

Bzzzzzzzz.

Mark laughed immediately. “He knows.”

“He knows nothing,” I hissed.

“He sounds threatened,” Sharon added.

“He is a battery-operated object!”

Another buzz.

Longer.

More dramatic.

Mark leaned closer as we walked. “You realise this is emotional now, right?”

“This conversation is why society is collapsing.”

Sharon adjusted Benji in her arms like she was preparing him for cultural enrichment.

“Honestly, Sue, modern technology matters.”

“Why are you both talking like divorced parents discussing school options?”

Benji sneezed.

Even he seemed overwhelmed.

Entering the Shop of No Return

The second those automatic doors opened, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake.

Soft purple lighting. Velvet displays. Suspiciously sensual jazz music.

And shelves upon shelves of things designed to ruin self-control and possibly lower back stability.

“Welcome!” chirped the sales assistant.

She was entirely too cheerful for someone surrounded by silicone and poor judgement.

Mark immediately looked comfortable.

That should have been my warning.

Sharon wandered off with the confidence of a woman attending a trade exhibition, while I hovered awkwardly beside a display labelled Luxury Rechargeable Pleasure Collection.

Dan buzzed.

Violently.

I slapped my bag.

“Behave.”

The sales assistant blinked. “Sorry?”

“My phone,” I lied.

Mark coughed into his hand to hide a laugh.

Terrible actor.

Mark Became Far Too Invested

Within five minutes, Mark was fully participating.

Not emotionally.

Worse.

Enthusiastically.

“What about this one?” he asked, casually lifting something sleek and terrifyingly expensive.

I nearly inhaled my own tongue.

“Why are you holding it like you understand it?”

“I understand engineering,” he replied.

“That is not engineering.”

The sales assistant nodded seriously. “Actually, this model has dual stimulation settings.”

Mark looked impressed.

I wanted the floor to open and claim me spiritually.

Sharon reappeared holding three boxes and what looked like dangerous confidence.

“Oh, this one’s incredible,” she announced loudly. “Waterproof, whisper-quiet and app-controlled.”

I stared at her. “Why do you know phrases like app-controlled?”

“Because I believe in progress.”

Dan buzzed from my bag like an offended pensioner resisting modernisation.

Mark smirked. “He’s taking this personally.”

“He doesn’t HAVE personal feelings.”

“Neither did Alexa,” Sharon replied.

Honestly, fair point.

The Demonstration That Should Never Have Happened

And then things escalated.

Because apparently humiliation has layers.

The sales assistant, whose name badge said Tanya, became deeply committed to customer service.

“Oh!” she said brightly. “Would you like me to explain the charging systems?”

No.

Absolutely not.

But before I could answer, Sharon said, “Yes.”

Traitor.

Tanya reached for a display model with the professionalism of someone presenting kitchen appliances on daytime television.

“This one uses batteries,” she explained.

Normal enough.

Then she held up another.

“And this model is USB rechargeable.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Very modern.”

Why was he sounding impressed?

Tanya smiled. “It’s very popular with couples.”

I nearly blacked out.

Mark glanced sideways at me with entirely too much amusement.

“Interesting.”

“It’s not interesting,” I snapped.

“It sounds interesting.”

Dan buzzed loudly.

Tanya looked at my bag.

I looked at the ceiling.

Sharon leaned towards me and whispered, “The pink one’s furious.”

Tanya then reached for another display model with terrifying enthusiasm.

“This one has seven pulse settings,” she explained brightly.

“Seven feels unnecessary,” I muttered.

Mark picked up the demonstration model beside him.

“What does this button do?”

“Mark—”

Too late.

BZZZZZZZZZZ.

The thing erupted in his hand like a technologically advanced wasp.

I yelped.

Tanya smiled professionally. “That’s the deep oscillation mode.”

Benji immediately growled.

Not a cute growl either.

A full, suspicious little rrrrrrr from Sharon’s arms, like he genuinely believed Mark had activated an enemy.

“Oh my God,” Sharon whispered. “He thinks it’s alive.”

“It basically IS alive,” Mark laughed, still holding the vibrating demonstration toy.

Benji barked sharply.

Mark fumbled with the controls, accidentally increasing the speed.

“Jesus CHRIST!” he laughed, struggling to find the off switch.

I grabbed the counter for emotional support.

Meanwhile, Tanya remained completely calm, which honestly made the whole situation more disturbing.

“That setting is very popular with couples,” she said.

I briefly considered faking my own death beside the lubricant display.

Sharon Lost All Sense of Public Behaviour

At this point, Sharon had become impossible to manage.

Not difficult.

Impossible.

She was now openly discussing vibrators with Tanya like they were reviewing holiday destinations.

“Well, my black one has excellent battery life,” she said conversationally.

I physically recoiled.

Mark nearly choked laughing.

Tanya nodded professionally. “That’s a very reliable range.”

WHY WAS EVERYONE TREATING THIS LIKE A TED TALK?

Meanwhile, Benji sat in Sharon’s arms, watching the entire conversation like a deeply judgemental therapist.

Dan buzzed again.

Bzzzzzzzz.

Mark leaned towards me.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m overheating from stress.”

“You’re overheating because Tanya just said couples.”

“I will throw myself into traffic.”

The Purchase I Was Bullied Into Making

I wish I could say I stood strong.

I didn’t.

Somewhere between Sharon’s relentless commentary, Mark’s smug flirting and Tanya’s disturbingly informative product knowledge, I cracked.

“Well, this one has excellent reviews,” Tanya said, handing me a sleek rose-gold box that looked far too elegant for the emotional damage it represented.

Mark nodded approvingly. “Very sophisticated.”

“I don’t want sophisticated,” I muttered.

Sharon gasped dramatically. “Sue, you deserve sophistication.”

Dan buzzed.

Sharp.

Almost offended.

I looked down at my bag.

“Don’t start.”

Tanya smiled politely, clearly assuming I was having some sort of technologically difficult relationship.

Which, honestly, wasn’t inaccurate.

And before I’d fully processed what was happening, I’d bought it.

Reader, I purchased a vibrator under group pressure.

That’s where my life is now.

The Bag Situation Became Critical

The second Tanya handed me my purchase, I should have kept it safely in its shopping bag.

Instead, I stuffed the box into my handbag alongside Dan, a charging cable, my lipstick, several loose receipts and what remained of my dignity.

It was too much power in one place.

Mark looked deeply entertained.

“You realise this is the happiest your handbag has ever been?”

“My handbag is now legally suspicious.”

Sharon nodded. “It has energy.”

Dan buzzed again.

Then, as I rummaged around trying to find my phone, my fingers caught the new model’s demonstration button through the opening in its packaging.

A second vibration rattled against my keys.

Different rhythm.

I froze.

Mark froze.

Sharon’s eyes widened.

“Oh my GOD,” she whispered. “They’re communicating.”

I stared at my bag.

Two vibrating objects. One handbag. Absolutely no dignity.

“I’m leaving,” I announced.

Leaving the Shop With Less Dignity Than I Entered With

The walk out of the shop felt deeply exposing.

Like everyone on the street somehow knew.

Which was ridiculous.

But also possibly true, because Sharon was carrying the branded shopping bag openly like she’d just won an award.

“Can you PLEASE hide that?” I hissed.

“Why?” she asked innocently. “Women supporting women.”

“Women humiliating women.”

Mark walked beside me, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“You did well in there.”

“I survived in there.”

“You asked questions.”

“I was cornered!”

“You compared charging systems.”

“That was under duress.”

Dan buzzed again from my handbag.

Then the new one answered, apparently still switched on.

I stopped walking.

“No.”

Another buzz.

Different pitch.

Sharon grabbed my arm. “Sue…”

“I swear to God, if they start syncing…”

Bzzzz-bzzzz.

Mark completely lost his composure.

I hate him for how attractive he is when he laughs.

The Phone Call That Changed Everything

And then my phone rang.

Finally.

A normal sound.

Except it wasn’t normal, because the second I answered, I remembered something deeply important.

The charity event.

Tonight.

The one I was hosting.

The one with actual people. Respectable people. Community people.

The one I was supposed to attend in under an hour.

“Oh no.”

Mark immediately noticed my expression.

“What?”

I closed my eyes.

“I have the fundraiser.”

Sharon blinked. “Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight!”

“The women’s support fundraiser?” Mark asked.

I stared at him. “Why do you know about that?”

“You talk in your sleep.”

Honestly, horrifying information.

My stomach dropped.

I didn’t have time to go home and change. My handbag was now technologically haunted, Sharon still had Benji, and Mark looked far too entertained to disappear quietly.

Then I remembered something even worse.

The local paper would be attending.

Of course it would.

Dan buzzed softly.

The new one buzzed back.

Almost… excited.

I looked towards the heavens.

“Dear God,” I whispered, “please let both of them run out of battery before seven.”

Mark smiled slowly.

“Oh, Sue,” he said.

“That bag’s absolutely going to betray you tonight.”

And honestly?

The worst part was…

He was probably right.

Final Thought

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from today, it’s never to let Mark turn a joke into an itinerary.

What started as an innocent coffee ended with Sharon discussing battery life with a complete stranger, Mark demonstrating equipment he had absolutely no business operating, Benji threatening a display model and me leaving an adult shop with a handbag that sounded like it was trying to establish diplomatic relations with itself.

And somehow, tomorrow is still going to be worse.

And Trust Me, Darlings…

If you thought the adult shop was chaotic, you are absolutely not prepared for Episode 40.

Because next time, there’s a charity fundraiser, a room full of respectable people, one dangerously overpacked handbag and a public speaking disaster so catastrophic that even Sharon briefly loses the ability to breathe from laughing.

Honestly, I may never emotionally recover.