Friday, May 28, 2010

I love my job.

I had to explain to a coworker once that pirates were indeed real, and do exist to this day.

She was doing some employee survey and God help her, she saw my pirate stuff and asked me if I liked pirates. I said, "Well yeah, I do; I've always liked pirates."

She said, and I quote, "Yeah, but are they real?"

"...what do you mean 'are they real'?"

"Are they real, are there pirates, or did you make them up?"

My face, I'm sure, was priceless. I said, "Well yes, there are still pirates to this day. There are stories all over the news!"

"But what do they do?"

Exasperated and just totally mind-blown, I said, "Murder and steal, of course; that's what pirates do!"

She was pleased with herself for learning something new, and I had a headache.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

More! Tales from the Porn Store!

It was Halloween, and I was dressed as a zombie attack victim a la "Night of the Living Dead." I had a skirt I had ripped, torn hose, shirt with one sleeve ripped off, my collar torn like I had gotten away from a grasping hand, disheveled hair, bloody nose, scratches, black eye, I looked amazing. The night progressed with me starting out by scaring the bejesus out of my manager; the other girls had me lay down in the floor in the novelty room, and told her as she came in to the store to look at what someone did to the Jenna display, and she ran back there and saw me laying there all bloody, and screamed her head off. It was beautiful.

Later that night, a man came in, and he asked my opinion on a couple of S/M magazines, then asked me to escort him around the store and tell him about the merchandise, and what toys sold best. He bought everything I recommended. At the register as I was taking his money, he said, "I like your shirt...the way it's torn, it gives...a great view of your rack. You have wonderful tits, I mean, look at 'em!" I was speechless for a second, then went with being polite, and said, "Thank you," smiling all the while as I handed him his change. He then said, "I own a motorcycle shop here in town, here's my card. You come by if you ever need anything, and it'll be 15% off, 'cause of your tits." He left with his payload of erotic merchandise, disappearing into the night.

Another customer came in, and he was acting really, truly weird; stalking around the store, giving crazed head shakes when asked if he needed any help, and spending a lot of time gazing at the DVDs. Not looking at the DVDs, as if to select one, but gazing in wide-eyed wonder at the shelf itself. He finally selected a magazine and a movie, and brought them to the counter. I began to ring him up, and then said he wanted some lube. I pointed him towards the samples, and he picked one out.

As I was ringing him up, he asked, " Do you know what time it is?"
"Yes, it's 9:32."

It took everything within me not to lose it. I rang him out, he left, and I collapsed on the counter, laughing my ass off. To this day, when anyone asks me what time it is, I have to keep myself from screaming, "IT'S MASTURBATION TIME!!!"