Why People Use Deluvery: Not Next to the Snacks

Picture a GoPuff history with a bottle of lube two rows above the ice cream or skittles. On its own that's nothing. It becomes something when you're on the couch ordering with a friend and you scroll past the lube to reorder the ice cream.

That's the other half of why people order from us, and part one didn't touch it. Speed is the reason people find us. This is a big part of why they come back.

Order history is a document. Almost nobody thinks about it that way at checkout, and then a year later it's a searchable list of everything you've bought, sitting in an account that's on a family plan and signed into the TV in the living room, where the "buy it again" row comes up for whoever picks up the remote. Amazon is the extreme version because Amazon is where you buy everything, so the one order you'd rather not explain is filed between a phone case and dog food, and the recommendation engine treats all of it as equally worth mentioning again.

The purchase itself is not the problem. The filing is.

One category, one account

So a lot of people want this to just be its own thing, and that's what we are. We sell one category. There's nothing here for an adult purchase to sit next to, and the account you use to order from us isn't the account you use to order a toaster.

What's actually on the shelf

There's a second cost to buying this from the store that sells everything, and it has nothing to do with who sees your history. A store that sells everything doesn't really know what it's selling.

Search a big marketplace for a magic wand and you get the real one, then a $19 version of it from a seller whose brand name is four capital letters that don't stand for anything. Counterfeits are common enough in this category that the manufacturers post warnings about them on their own sites, and you usually can't tell from the listing, because the fake uses the real photos.

The material question is worse, because it's the part that touches you. Porous materials — jelly PVC and the soft skin-like TPE blends — absorb fluid and can't really be sanitized, and they get tacky as they age. That isn't a new discovery. Shops were already telling people to put a condom on a porous toy in the mid-'90s, which is in 1970–2000. It still gets sold, partly because "novelty" is a legal shrug and partly because a marketplace listing doesn't have to tell you what the thing is made of. A no-name insertable at a suspiciously good price is usually that.

So we carry a short list instead. Silicone and glass mostly, and where there's PVC it's the firm phthalate-free kind. The description says what it's made of. Same standard as the enhancer aisle, where the honest answer was to refuse a few whole categories — that's its own post.

The trade is real and I'll name it: a short list means sometimes we don't have the exact thing you saw somewhere else. I'd take that over a few hundred listings I can't vouch for.

Deluvery is a same-night adult wellness delivery service in DC. We carry toys, lubes, condoms, and personal care, and we deliver in discreet packaging. Nothing on the box, and a forgettable name on the card statement.

The click

Back to the order history for a second, because there's a version of it you never get to see. It's the one built out of your clicks.

The normal arrangement is that a store loads a handful of third-party ad pixels, those pixels report your behavior back to ad networks, and the networks use it to follow you. Then the banner shows up on a work laptop or in the middle of a Reddit feed, which is the specific complaint people actually describe to us. We don't run that. No retargeting pixels, and no handing click data or customer data to ad networks and brokers. Our analytics are first-party, and they exist to tell us whether checkout is broken and what people can't find.

One honest caveat: if you get here by clicking an ad on Google or Meta, that platform knows the click happened, and we can't undo that from our end. What we can do is not stack more tracking on top of it, and the least-tracked path is coming straight to us once you know we exist. The long version of all this, including where we drew each line and why, is in Privacy-First Adult Delivery.

Part one was people on a clock. This one is people who want a boundary around it, and people who want to know what they're actually buying. That's a wide range of customers for one small store, and it reads like several different people until you notice they're all doing the same thing: taking this part of their life seriously enough to handle it on purpose.

Nobody here is being secretive. A secret is a whole project, and it implies there's something wrong with the order. This is closer to an errand that doesn't need to be cross-referenced against the grocery list or brought up again by a website eight months later, done with a product you can name the material of, at an hour you picked. People who order this way have mostly just decided which parts of their life are up for indexing and which ones aren't.

Nobody says any of this when they place the order, for what it's worth. It usually comes out later, in a message about where to leave the bag.

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