So I once got fired from the porn store for bringing a coworker a birthday cake. Isn’t that a stupid reason to fire someone? Well, that was the official reason I was fired, but not the real reason…

I went through several managers at the porn store. Some were good, some were worthless, but the guy who fired me was more worthless than the rest. Let’s call him Sneaky Supervisor. So Sneaky Supervisor was probably my fourth manager at the porn store in the first year I worked there. As soon as he started working there, the cash started coming out wrong. It actually evened out on paper, but the credit card profits were long and the cash was short each night. Birthday Boy Coworker and I figured out that Sneaky Supervisor was running customers’ credit cards for more than what they bought, then pocketing the difference.

Birthday Boy Coworker and I decided to talk to the area manager about Sneaky Supervisor’s stealing. The night before we were going to tell the area manager, Birthday Boy Coworker told Sneaky Supervisor that we were going to tell on him. Not a good move. My thinking is, if you are going to drop a bomb on someone, only warn them if you like them. Otherwise, drop it, and let shit land where it lands. Also, don’t threaten anyone who has the power to fire you. Because you know what happened the next morning? Of course Sneaky Supervisor fired both Birthday Boy Coworker and me.

I called the area manager and explained the situation. In less than a week, Sneaky Supervisor was history, and I was offered my porn clerk job back. So I was not fired because of a birthday cake, but because Sleazy Supervisor was stealing and trying to cover his ass. So has anyone else been fired for a stupid reason? Anything as stupid as a birthday cake?

So the only time I’ve had a gun pulled on me was when the porn store was robbed one night and I had the distinct pleasure of being there. It was raining like crazy outside, so the store was a little slow on this particular night. It was one of the few nights I had a coworker with me…. normally we worked alone. So the coworker, let’s call her Marilyn, since Marilyn Monroe was her idol, she was at the register. And she was all excited about how cute she looked that night. She had on a low-cut dress, and she had worn some padding to make her boobs look bigger.

I was bored since it was slow, so I started cleaning shelves and merchandise. So I’m sitting on the floor, pulling boxed edible underwear off the shelves so I could dust, when in walked this guy with a gun. He had on a big puffy coat, the kind that always reminds me of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters. He also had on a stocking cap pulled down low and a mask over his nose and mouth.

Stay-Puft Robber went up to Marilyn behind the register and tried to pull her to the register to get the money. She pointed out to him that he actually drug her over to the camera video monitor. Geez, must have been his first robbery. So he got Marilyn to the register, and started yelling at her to get the money. He yelled at the customers to not look at him while he’s at it…. like people are going to not look at someone who is robbing a place.

But surprisingly, Stay-Puft Robber did not see me because I was sitting on the floor next to a shelving unit. Now, I always imagined if the store got robbed, that I would grab a big-ass double dong off the wall and smack the person upside the head with it. Then, I would chain the robber to the door with some fuzzy cheetah handcuffs until the police got there. But I guess having someone actually rob the place really put shit into perspective for me. Did I really want to put my life on the line for a few hundred dollars and some vibrating pussies and cocks? Uh, no.

So I did the first thing that came to my head…. I hit the mother fucking door. It surprised the Stay-Puft Robber because he hadn’t even clocked me. He pointed the gun at me and said “Get your ass back in here”. I just wanted to say, “Look fucker, I’m already out the God damned door… you really think I’m coming back in there?” But I didn’t. Instead, I booked my ass to the neighboring convenience store in the rain. I promise, you have never seen a white girl run that fast in the rain across 6 lanes of traffic in your life.

I called the police from the convenience store and waited for them to show up at the porn store. So what happened? The police officers pulled up in front of the convenience store with shotguns. They came in and and one officer asks, “Where’s the guy?” All the employees at the convenience store and I looked at the cops like they wer doughnut eating idiots. I said, “The robbery is across the street.”

So the police and I went across the street to see what was going on at the porn store, but Stay-Puft Robber was gone. My coworker Marilyn was in her element with the police questioning her. She said things like, “I think the guy liked me… I’m glad I wore my falsies in my bra today.” She wanted to be the next mother fucking Patty Hearst. Anyway, since I was the more level- headed of the two of us porn slingers, I went to the back of the store to grab the tape from the video cameras. We always put in a new tape every morning. Well, guess what? Someone forgot to hit the record button on the vcr that day… the one day we get robbed.

My coworker Marilyn continued to be a crakpot, and tried to describe Stay-Puft Robber’s hairstyle and lip shape to the police. I finally turned to her and said, “Look, the dude had on a stocking cap and a mask… when the hell did you see his hair and lips?” And I swear to God she said, “I didn’t, but I can envision what they might look like.”

Well for me, that was too much crazy for one night. I called the manager, had her take over, and I went home, regretting that I didn’t hit my coworker Marilyn in the head with a fucking double dong when I had the chance.

We used to get some weird requests at the porn store. Like rolling papers, which I guess I can kind of understand. There is another store in the area that primarily sells music, but they sell porn and “tobacco smoking accessories” on the side. So people would see porn and smoking paraphenalia there and assume we had rolling papers as well. We didn’t.

I had an opera singer ask for a corset once. The corset wasn’t the weird request… we carried those… it was the fact that a opera singer was buying it. Apparently, she had been searching for a corset at several lingerie stores with no luck. A clerk at one of the stores steered her to our little porn store. The opera singer looked freaked out when she came in the store. Her eyes darted around like she didn’t want to see anything naughty, but she kind of did want to at the same time. I hooked her up with a discount for her trouble, but I found it odd that the costume department for the opera didn’t supply her with a corset.

And then there was the two pink dildos for the nunchucks. So the girl who needed the dildos was making a movie about ninja cheerleaders and school girls beating the crap out of guys, or something of that nature. She ended up buying a school girl outfit, a cheerleader outfit, a tiny cheetah bikini, and those two pink jelly dildos. She asked me what I thought was the best way to put holes in the dense jelly material so she could attach a chain to make the x-rated nunchucks. I told her that putting holes in faux penises was not my forte, but I surmised that a drill with a long drill bit would do the trick.

One consistent group of customers at the porn store was strippers. We sold exotic dancer wear there and so a lot of dancers would come in with their wads of ones to buy thongs or whatever. Now when a stripper pays with one dollar bills, you know exactly where those ones came from. One blogger called these ones “hoo ha money”. And you know where hoo ha money’s been. Think about that the next time you hold some money in your mouth while you try to get your cell phone out of your pocket or purse.

I never wanted to make any strippers feel weird about paying for a hundred bucks worth of stuff with ones. I mean, if a stripper can’t feel comfortable spending her ones at a porn store where crotchless panties are sold, then where the hell can she?

Most strippers who came in paid for their clothes and shoes themselves, but there were a few who would come in with sugar daddies. Or alleged sugar daddies, because, you know, they could have just been the strippers’ dads or grandfathers for all I know… but that would be kind of sick. And these alleged sugar daddies would throw down some money. A girl could just point and say, “I want that, and that, and that” and the guy would buy all of it, no questions asked.

After all that time at the porn store, I could never decide if I should feel sorry for the stripper or for the sugar daddy. One is getting screwed out of money and the other one is just getting screwed… or allegedly screwed.

At the porn store, we’d get some con artists. Some were short change artists who would try to tell you that you didn’t give them the correct change. And some con artists would try to get more money out of you in sneaky ways. Anyway, most of them hated me because I did something old school — I actually counted back change to every customer.

I had a guy come in one time and tell me he was out of gas and he needed $20. He said he knew my manager and he would pay her back the next day. So I asked him what my manager’s name was… he had no clue. I told him there was a gas station just down the street and to try his line over there.

Another time, a guy came in to buy some batteries. I told him the gas station down the street would have batteries for cheaper than us. But no, he wanted batteries from the porn store. First, he tried to tell me that I gave him the wrong change. Not possible, because I always put the bills people gave me on top of the register drawer until transactions were complete. That didn’t work for him, so he had to try something else.

As soon as he got outside, he came in and said he changed his mind… he wanted to buy batteries from Quik Trip instead. I told him he could go over there, but I couldn’t give him a refund on his batteries… only a gift certificate.

He proceeded to go off on me, telling me that I was a dumb bitch. Now the way to get me to do something nice for you is not like this. Maybe if he asked nicely, I would have bent the rules and gave him a refund. But no, he had to call me a bitch and a dumb on top of that. He tried to get up in my face to scare me, but I don’t scare that easily.

I told him, “First, get the fuck out of my face. Then get the fuck out of this store.” He said he didn’t have to go anywhere because it was a free country, so I called the police. That did it… at that point, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to scam me. So he left. I don’t care for con artists, but they sure did keep things interesting on slow nights at the porn store.

When you work at a porn store, hand sanitizer becomes your new best friend. Seriously, customers would return porn rentals, and I knew where there hands were before they took those movies out of their VCRs or DVD players. So there was a rhythm to the whole transaction…. customer hands me movies for return… I put them away… then pumped some hand sanitizer on my hands. Hand off, put away, pump… that’s how I spent most nights.

Sometimes movies came back with obvious liquids on the cases. When this happened, I would look at the customer like I was a disappointed school teacher. Then I would hand them some paper towels and a bottle of disinfectant and make them clean off the cases before I’d handle them. Really, I was not paid enough to deal with bodily secretions.

Every once in awhile, a customer would bring a case back with the wrong movie in it. Often it was another porn movie, which wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes it was a movie rental from Blockbuster or Hollywood Video. And one time, a porn case had a copy of Cinderella inside. I’d hate to be the little kid who tried to watch her Cinderella movie and ended up seeing “Big Trouble in Little Vagina” instead.

At the porn store, along with the porn, we also sold lingerie and dance wear. And by dance wear, I don’t mean ballet. A lot of people would try on clothes, then want me to tell them what I thought of whatever they had on.

There are a few problems with this. Number one, I hate to try on clothes myself…. why would I want to watch someone else try on clothes? Number two, if the customer is always right, can I really tell them the truth if they look like shit in something? And number three, trust me, most of the people who tried on lingerie I really didn’t want to see practically naked.

So I had my own little rule… if customers tried on stuff, they needed to stay in the dressing room. That way, I didn’t have to give an opinion on what they had on, and they weren’t flashing other customers while they were at it.

So there was this one business man who would come in occasionally to try on lingerie. Now I’ve seen some men who look fucking good when they dressed up in women’s clothes. Unfortunately, this guy wasn’t one of them. Imagine the boss, Lumbergh, from Office Space. Now, imagine him carrying his coffee around in a long red satin nightgown with a slit up the leg and asking you for your TPS reports. That description pretty much sums up this guy.

He came in one time, dressed as usual in a suit, and tried on a piece of lingerie. From the dressing room, he asked if I would tell him what I thought. I told him I couldn’t, and he needed to stay in the dressing room. But he really wanted me to look at it. Who knows, maybe it was part of his kink to show off to other people. Anyway, he kept asking me to look at it and I kept telling him no. Finally, he walks out of the dressing room in this cheetah print nightie and his own fishnets and stripper heels. He said, ” I don’t know what you think, but I think I look fabulous, and I’m going to wear this nightie home. Can you ring me up?” Sure thing, buddy. No problem.

There was this guy who would call the porn store who was a real dirty calling gem. He would always ask this question in a whisper…

“Can I dig in your booty?”

No lie. One day when he called, I was bored, so I said, “I can’t hear you very well. Maybe you should call back when you can speak a little louder.” 5 minutes later, he called back talking a tiny bit louder. So I said, “I can hear you a little better, but I still can’t make out what your saying. Call back when you can speak a little louder.” This went on for a while, him calling back and me fucking with him. Hell, we was probably getting off on it.

Anyway, he finally calls back and says clear as day, “CAN I DIG IN YOUR BOOTY?” So I tell him, “Hell no, but thanks for being more articulate. Do you want me to look up a 900 number for you so you can ask them?” He said, “Sure, why not?”

So I gave him a number for some big booty line, and he never called the porn store again.

Customer service can be a bit tricky at a porn store.  I mean, when people are looking at dildos and ask, “What would you use?”, you have to figure out just how customer friendly you want to get.  I worked with a few gals who would tell customers what toys they owned and if they were sensational or shitty.  Me… that’s a little too personal for my taste.  So when people would ask what toy I’d recommend, I’d ask them what size they were looking for, then go from there. On a side note, it was always the dildos, never the anal plugs that people wanted help with.  I guess the people buying anal plugs knew exactly what they wanted up their asses.

With the movie rentals, I was a little more laid back about giving recommendations.  If anyone asked for what’s good, I’d ask for what they were looking for, then point them in the right direction… if they were nice.  And I could point them exactly to the area with the movie I thought they’d like.  The librarian in me organized all the porn movies by genre, then put all the categories in alphabetical order.  Well, until the area manager told me to cut that shit out because it was a waste of time. But my thinking was, if this is the first time you’ve gotten your wife to rent some porn with you, and you’re looking for some nice couple-oriented movies, then you don’t want to scare her off when she sees a whole anal series entitled, “Stop, My Ass is on Fire” or “ATM…Ass to Mouth”.

Also, it helped that I knew the titles of the movies most porn stars where in.  So if a customer asked for some movies with Tera Patrick, I could rattle of 4 or 5 titles that the porn store owned.  This dorky talent of mine came in especially handy when one Chiefs player would frequently call the store and ask the manager to pull movie rentals for him. He would ask for specific porn stars’ movies.  The manager would then call me at my day job and have me list off some movies.  That must have been particularly interesting to the people at my day job in a library when I would say into the phone, “Okay, that porn star is in ‘Dyke Diner’, ‘Extreme Sex 3′, Sleeping Booty’, and ‘Thunderbox’.”

Now if someone asked me what movies I liked, but the person was an asshole to me, I’d give him (or her) the shittiest fucking movies I could think of. Seriously, we’re talking mid-1980’s, shitty-lighting, big haired, big-bushed women, ugly, flabby men… the whole nine.  So you see, it pays to be nice to your porn clerks… sometimes they might just do you right.

I got hit on a lot at the porn store. But, I figured out pretty quickly that anyone working in a porn store is going to get hit on a ton. Hell, you could put a trained orangutan behind the counter and I bet he would get hit on more than me. Lots of people in this world want to role play Clint Eastwood and Clyde from Every Which Way But Loose…

There’s just something about the atmosphere of lingerie, dildos, and barely dressed women on magazine covers that makes people a little bold. There were several types of porn store pick up styles. First, there were the guys who would rent a porn and say, “So, do you want to come home and watch this with me?” This was actually not that bad of a line… just bad when I heard it five times a night.

Next were the persistent guys that just would not give up. Every time these guys came in, they’d ask me out, no matter how many times I already said no. The worst were the lawyers, maybe because they’re not used to admitting defeat. When I told one lawyer, sorry, but I had a boyfriend, he started grilling me. “What does your boyfriend do for a living? Can he buy you jewelry and clothes? Can he take you on cruises and vacations to the islands?” I mean, really, did he think that trying to make my boyfriend look bad would make me think better of him? I finally told him, “Seriously, I am not for sale, so fuck off”.

Then there were the couples who would try to pick me up for a threesome. Some would just come right out and ask if I wanted to go home with them. Others would at least offer to buy me a drink first. Either way, no couple who hit on me at the store got to take me home.

But my personal favorites were the guys who thought a smooth pickup move was to whip out their dicks. Just skip the small talk and get right to it. I had a standard comeback for these special guys. I’d point to the corner and say, “One… you are on camera.” Then I’d look down at their package and say, “And two… I am not impressed.” Not very nice, but it sure made guys zip up their pants and hit the door.