Do you know what would have made my porn store experience even better? Being able to wear a tool belt or a gun belt full of toys at work. Can’t you just see that giving me air of authority?
I could have strutted around and said, “I’m the dildo sheriff in town, and if you mess with me, I’ll whip out a dildo and smack you upside the head.”
But alas, the area manager wouldn’t let me wear one of those belts. What did she know? A belt full of jack rabbit vibrators, jelly dongs, and fake porn star vaginas should have been a requirement for every employee.
Maybe I’ll go ahead and get a tool belt for my adult toy parties. Then I can whip different products out of my belt before I pass them around for inspection. I’m sure I’ll look like an idiot, but at least I will be a dildo-laden idiot : )
I don’t work at the porn store anymore, but sometimes I run into customers from there. Normally if they recognize me, we nod, maybe wave, or at the most, say hi. Others who recognize me get a look of fear or horror in their eyes, usually because their significant others are present. With those people, I have enough tact not to start a conversation with them about their penchant for tranny porn.
Then there are some people who recognize me, but they aren’t quite sure why they know me. I had it happen the other day. I was going into a restaurant when a guy and his daughter or very young girlfriend were leaving the place. He told me he knew me from somewhere but wasn’t sure where. I told him he looked familiar also but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I wasn’t sure if the girl was his daughter and I didn’t want to say, “I remember you too. You rented your way through the porn store’s entire collection of gang bang movies.”
So as you see, I’m quite never sure what to do with these people who only vaguely remember me. I feel a little weird pointing out a person’s porn store patronage. Should I say, “I remember you from the porn store”? Or something innocuous like, “I worked at a movie rental place” and see if they catch on? Or just play dumb and act like I have no clue where we have met? Help me out here… you know I could use any help I can get 🙂
I really need to quit hearing just bits of pieces of conversations. Last night at the blogger meet-up, I overheard about serial pee-ers in libraries and porn stores, opening doors naked while holding a gun, Cheeseburger Jerry, Beth Gottstein, and unicorns doing it. Or maybe unicorns doing it is just burned into my head because Cubicle Gangsta’s shirt depicted that scene : )
Thanks to all who came out last night, and to those who put the meet-up information on their sites. Here’s a list of blogs represented last night. If you remember anyone else, please leave me a comment so I can add the appropriate offenders.
Flogging of America
Happy in Bag
Hip Suburban White Guy
My Town, My Take
Rambliings, Rants & Mommy-hood
Sader Family Blog
Smells Like Bullshit
Thoughts from Kansas
Three O’Clock in the Morning
If I missed you, please go easy on me as I’m compiling this list the day after a few too many drinks. And to those who couldn’t make it, there’s always next time…
At the porn store, there were more than a few times when customers really embarrassed themselves. One time a guy was swinging a double dong around and accidently hit himself in the nuts so hard that he fell down. Another time, a woman was laughing so hard at a novelty toy that she peed on herself.
And my favorite was when a husband and wife were picking out a strap-on. The woman told her husband, “I get to fuck you with this!” and then someone from their church came around the corner in the store.
So I was curious… have you ever had anything embarrassing happen at a store, a bar, or anywhere in public? I’ll throw one of mine out for you… My boob popped out — Janet Jackson style– at my wedding during our first dance. Thankfully, I was able to shove it back in my dress before anyone noticed… or at least I tell myself that : )
Are you up for an unofficial KC blogger meetup?
Tuesday, April 17th
Happy Hour until ????
Harry’s Country Club
(Harry’s in the River Market, NOT Harry’s in Westport)
112 Missouri Ave
Kansas City, MO 64106
If you would like to help get the word out, put the info on your site… kind of viral blogging : )
Stop by if you up for it, down for it, or whatever the case may be : )
Keith suggested I write about how I started working in the porn store. After going to a Christian college where everyone knew my business, I moved to Kansas City where I knew no one. I loved being anonymous in a city. I could now drink at a bar until I fell off the bar stool, and pretty much no one batted an eye.
I looked for a regular job, but until I found one, I really needed money to support my drinking habit. I looked for part time jobs only the way someone completely burned out on Christian college could… by applying to places that would be scandalous. Note that I didn’t apply to any strip clubs, not even as a cocktail waitress, so “scandalous” was apparently pretty tame to my sheltered little mind at the time.
My part time job search ended with two job offers… Hooter’s and the porn store. In theory, I probably could have rocked the pantyhose and orange shorts combo at Hooters back in the day. But, as my husband likes to tell me, I have no business being a waitress. My apathy would show on my face instead of a smile, and that would mean no tips (and no drinking money) for me.
Instead, I decided to take my apathy to the porn store. And the rest, as they say, is history… or at least a good ice breaker at parties : )
So when I worked at the porn store, I had some guy groupies. Now surely you are reading this and asking, “What the hell?”. But I assure you there were guys who would only come in when I was working. And they would ogle me, tell me jokes, and try to be witty until I would kick them out.
The ones who took up the most of my time were not yet 21, so they couldn’t go to any bars or clubs. I guess porn stores are more interesting than libraries to some people who are underage. There were two guys under 21 who would come in together and they would always ask me to go to parties with them. One night, I made a deal with them– I would go to a party that night if they wouldn’t come in and bug me for a few weeks. The guys thought they had died and gone to heaven.
So after I closed up the porn store, I drove my car to the local liquor store and the guys followed me. They stayed outside while I went in to buy my bottle of whatever. I was around 23 at the time and I was probably still in a rum phase. I got up to the counter with my big bottle of Bacardi, plus some vodka, and the guy at the counter wouldn’t ring me up. He thought I was trying to provide minors with alcohol, since these guys were sitting in a car outside. I told him, “Trust me, I need all this alcohol to hang out with them”, but to no avail.
I ended up telling the guys I had to skip the party. There was no way I was going to a possibly super geeky sausage fest of a party without being able to drink. And since I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain, my guy groupies got to come into the store for the next few weeks anyway. I just couldn’t win.