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.

There was this one porn store customer who won the award for most porn rentals in my book. It would be an understatement to say he was a porn addict. He would rent 25 to 30 movies every couple of weeks. And he would always return them late. At a dollar a day late fee per movie, that really adds up. But we let him keep renting even when he had other movies out because employees earned part of the late fees as bonuses on each paycheck.

One day he walks in with a brown paper bag filled to the top with overdue movie rentals, which was how he usually returned his movies. This day, the manager, who loved to flirt with him, went through the mass of movies to see what his late fee would be. She usually cut him a deal so he could pay a discounted late fee. But in the paper bag, she found something that horrified her…. it was a movie rental from another porn store.

She pulled out the movie and yelled, “You’re cheating on us!” I thought she was going to cry, but she continued, “After we bend the rules for you, let you take as many movies as you want, give you discounts on late fees, and this is how you treat us?”

I couldn’t help but laugh… it was absolutely absurd. Who really gives a crap if people rent porn from more than one place? But my manager obviously did. After that little episode, we were told to never bend the store policies for him again.

The porn store had its fair amount of shoplifters. I didn’t have much taken on my shifts, mostly because I didn’t have the music cranked up to eleven and I’d ask people if they needed help if I heard them opening boxes. And because I was kind of a bitch when I was there and people were a little scared of me.

Some of my coworkers had some great shit stolen during their shifts. One girl had someone swipe a leather gimp mask, complete with zippers over the eyes and mouth. I guess the people were really needing to play out some Pulp Fiction fantasies.

Another coworker had a 14″ realistic dildo with balls stolen on her shift. Hmmm….”14 inches” and “realistic”… 2 things that don’t go together. But how the hell does someone get out of a store with over a foot long weiner without anyone noticing? (Actually, I sold one of those 14 inchers to a chick one time who was like 5 foot nothing. That was one of the few times I actually did a double take. Sizing her up, it looked like that thing would end up in her lungs…)

Anyway, back to the shoplifters. We used to have this crack head who would come in, grab all the clothes off of a rack, then run out the door. Even if you called 911 as soon as this guy came in, he’d be gone before anyone in dispatch even answered. I’d been warned about him, but I hadn’t been graced by his presence…. until one day he walks in.

I knew what crack head looked like from the description my fellow porn comrades gave me. As soon as he walked in the door, I sneaked over to the door and flipped the deadbolt. Then I went back to the counter to watch the fun ensue. The dude snatched an armload of stripper wear off a rack, then ran for the door…. and smacked right into the damn thing. Crack head hit the door so hard, he knocked himself on his own ass.

I had already hit our panic button for the police, so I gave the guy a choice… walk out without anything or wait for the cops. Needless to say, he left the clothes, figured out how to open that deadbolt, and got the fuck out pretty damn quick.

Back when I used to work at the porn store, there was a guy who would call and ask what kind of men’s bathing suits we had. He didn’t want to hear about trunks… only ball squeezing speedo types of bathing suits. He would want me to describe them to him. The first time he called, I did describe them. But when he started calling every Sunday afternoon, I figured out what a whacko he was.

First he would ask about the material. Then he would ask how butt hugging they were. Finally, he would ask how large the crotches on them were since he had such an incredibly large package. It always amazes me how many dirty callers have large packages…

Anyway, one Sunday a guy came in and checked out are men’s bathing suits and asked me when we were getting a new shipment. It was November at the time, so I told him, “Not anytime time soon.” Looking heartbroken, he bought some lube and some condoms and left. About 30 minutes later, I get a call from someone asking about men’s bathing suits. Coincidence? I think not.

The guy goes into his usual spiel about how his package is big and he hopes what we have will hold him. So I said, “Look, you would know since you were just in here looking at our suits. Of course he denied it, so I said, “Isn’t your name ____? No? But I’m reading it right off the credit card slip for your lube and condoms. Might I add, not extra large condoms for you extra large crotch. Now, if I look up your name in the phone book and compare the number to the one on my caller ID, won’t the number be the same?”

The porn store didn’t have caller ID, but of course large crotch Speedo guy didnt know that. He hung up on me, and as far as I know, he never called back.