The Origin Story of Luberella: How I Became a Sexual Wellness Supervillain

It started with a shattered display case and ended in legend...

In the pantheon of supervillain origin stories, mine has no radioactive spiders, no misty-eyed vengeance arcs, and certainly no billionaire tech labs. Just broken glass, enough lube to fill a baptistry, and the kind of nickname that follows you into blues joints after midnight.

💥 Act I: The Accidental Lube Empire

When I inherited Romantic Adventures, I had no retail experience and even less cash flow — just grit, vision, and the audacity to believe Mississippians deserved top-tier intimacy products without shame or sleaze.

Twice a year, I’d pack up and head to adult industry trade shows. They’re surreal — mini utopias where vendors create jaw-dropping displays of what you could be if you had the budget, the backing, and none of the Bible Belt baggage.

Every time, I’d come home wondering why my displays looked like rummage sales while theirs looked like Paris Fashion Week for vibrators.

Eventually, I discovered the secret:
People buy what they see as complete.
When products are merchandised in cohesive lines — organized, sexy, and intuitive — they fly off the shelves.

So when Jo Lube offered a deal that included a sleek glass display case with a bulk order? I jumped.

That case would be my crown jewel. Lube would become our “Would you like fries with that?” — and I was ready to upsell.

🧃 Act II: A Sticky Situation

The first box arrived fragile and suspiciously light — covered in Chinese characters and a vibe that screamed “don’t trust this.”

Still, I gathered my staff for the unveiling.

Cue the sad trombone.

Inside:
Shattered glass.
Lube bottles slicked with silicone like they’d barely survived a rave.
A dream deferred... and kind of gooey.

I called the vendor. “So sorry,” they said. “Keep the lube. We’ll send another.”

Two days later, the replacement arrived. Bigger. Heavier. Better-sealed.

Our UPS driver — built like a linebacker — decided to forgo the dolly and hoist it straight in. Muscles straining, confidence blazing... until — boom.

The box slipped just inches — but the sound of shattering glass cracked through the store like thunder.

He froze. I froze. My staff froze.

And then...
We wiped. Again.

🧼 Act III: Luberella Rises

The third time I called Jo Lube, I begged:
“Just send me the lube. Forget the damn display case.”

With three shipments’ worth of stock, we basically became a regional distributor by accident. I took the shattered frame to a local glass guy and had custom panes cut.

The finished case? A triumph. And more meaningful for having literally risen from the shards.

Somewhere in the midst of all this, one of my smart-mouthed employees christened me:
Luberella.

It stuck.
Like silicone on linoleum.

🦹‍♀️ The Birth of a Supervillain

Not just because of the spills, but because of my ruthless register routines:

“Did you offer them lube with that? Nobody wants fries without ketchup!”

To keep it fun, every employee got a raunchy supervillain name. We used them exclusively when we hit the town after close — sipping cocktails with names like “Sex on a Slip’n Slide” while calling each other things you definitely can’t print on business cards.

My favorite?
Captain Save-a-Ho — our designated driver and moral compass, who never drank and never left anyone stranded.

❤️ The Real Moral

Running a business means getting your hands dirty. Sometimes it means literally squeegeeing lube off inventory.

But it also means building something — from the wreckage and for your people.

At Romantic Adventures, our strength has always come from the laughter, the chaos, and the deep respect for vulnerability. Whether you’re buying a vibrator, finding your fantasy, or being dubbed “Luberella” in the middle of a product training, we make room for all of you here.

And if you ever wondered what your sexual wellness supervillain name might be, come visit us.

We’ve got two decades of practice helping folks claim new identities — some of which even come with capes.