"In books. And films. And in life. And in heaven."
Okay children, gather round and allow your ever so humble author a moment to share:
With today's present economic climes being as they are, I've made the decision to pursue additional streams of revenue. Now being a wage slave, a modern day serf if you will, to the Holiday Inn...finding said additional sources of income has been less than easy.
That said, I have, temporarily at least, found a regular 8-hour gig every Saturday night. It's a retail job....part of a billion dollar industry in fact. I am now a part-time sales clerk...at the Olde Un Theater.
Now for those not in the know, and those in the know who really just want me to explain it, the Olde Un Theater advertises itself as...the store for lovers. A less discerning sort would refer to the Olde Un Theater as, well, a smut shop. (Or is it shoppe?)
I know. I know. I know. The lovely Brook's mother has already shamed me enough, I'm thinking/hoping in a half-joking way, so keep your motherly comments of indignation to yourselves. Additionally, and knowing most of you as I do probably more importantly, yes I do get an employee discount and no I will not buy you anything.
So I started my training last night. Don't fret, first-hand knowledge of inventory is not required. This was more to get the lay (no pun intended damn you) of the land and learn the computer system. So...impressions?
It's a little disarming walking into a porn shop. You are immediately hit with, in the words of Jim Belushi from About Last Night, "tits and ass, tits and ass, tits and ass."
We've all been in stores like this....right? We make fun of the titles like Oklahomo, Bang that Black Bitch White Boy and All Dat Azz (which incidentally has many volumes). Any girl who's been to a bachelorette party has seen the penis popsicles or the t-shirts with the sex scavenger hunts on them. You don't want to hear about that stuff. You want the stories.
What are the customers like? Well you do have your packs of sorority sisters buying their gag gifts for wedding showers and bachelorette parties. These are normally vibrators of the smaller, i.e. slightly normal, variety.
Oh, by the by, since nothing is returnable at the Olde Un, naturally I hope you all would think, every vibrator must be tested by the sales clerk. Now, I don't mean "tested" tested, but I did have to put batteries in some of these bad boys and turn them on. I can't type that without giggling, so I'm sure you can imagine how difficult this was for me.
Anyway, like I said normal vibrators are for those unembarrassed about what they want and for the one person in twenty who is actually buying the "gag" gift. On the other hand, buying a cosmetic hand shaped as a...well a fist. That's no gag gift. That's a ball-gag gift. Also, people, the bigger a deal you make about it not being for you...you might as well tell us exactly how you're going to use it on yourself and your husband.
Oh, speaking of husbands, this one lady bought some of that de-sensitizing cream for a guy's Octagon and Doctor Noisewaters. The husband/boyfriend/premature ejaculator feigned interest in looking at the DVD's for rent on the other side of the store, but we all know the truth.
Oh, public service announcement, exotic dancers are invited to use the "professional discount" on all lingerie and boots. No word on whether escorts may enjoy a discount on the contraceptives.
Since you brought up condoms. One guy puzzled me at first by purchasing just one condom (mint flavored?). My puzzlement turned when I saw him leave the commercial area of the store and enter the theater area. Oh, riiiight.
Did I mention the theaters? There are three types. The first would be a preview booth. What's that you ask. Well, the gist would be...why rent the DVD and take it home when you can watch it here? For $7 you rent the room for 2 hours and may watch a DVD of your choice from the stores shelves. Fair warning...cloth couches.
Type 2: The peep shows. These are the stereotypical booths where one pumps quarters into a TV and watches snippets of porn. Glory holes? Not an urban legend. Although they are more like glory doggie-doors. No actually I think they slide...like in a confessional booth. Huh.
The final type of theater would be the actual theater. Now, I've not yet gone inside any of these (and quite thankfully have been assured I probably won't have to) but the description of the theaters is they have a big-screen TV and couches inside. Two of the three are for straight films. Although on weekends one theater does switch to couples only for what I'm told is a rather active Columbia swingers scene. The final theater is the all-male cabaret.
What goes on in these rooms? I'm told anything and everything goes on in these rooms. In fact, one gentlemen with only half a leg motored back and forth from the theaters to the store on his little scooter to give us a play by play on the drama unfolding between a certain young lady and her boyfriend, whom she found (shockingly) in the all-male cabaret.
I actually saw the girl walk through the story, coming to the realization of where the boyfriend was. She had this look on her face....it's like, uh...who's the chick that married Jackson Pollock? Right, Marcia Gay Harden. It's like she knew Jackson was going to touch the other boy's paint brushes when he hung out with certain boys. She just knew it. So she must have had the look on her face this girl had. Follow? Good.
[Editor's Note: Those of you who've seen Pollock may not remember the scenes in the film as described by the author in the above paragraph. That would be because they weren't in the film. They did happen though. The author has read the full Pollock biography, from which a small piece was culled to make the screenplay. It's science.]
I've only worked there one night! It was, I'm told, a slow night! I haven't even worked a couples night yet! I still feel like I was in an episode of HBO's Real Sex.
This is off topic, but I think I am going to buy a pair of handcuffs. They're the kind the police use and offered in either stainless steel or steel with nickel plating. I can also get those type the highway troopers use. You know, the kind with no chain between the cuffs, thereby restricting movement even more?
Oh, leg irons are also available in the bondage section.
Guess how many different types of strap-ons there are. A lot.
Have you ever seen the episode of Arrested Development where Tobias goes to the spa? Body chocolate is a real thing. (And available in a variety of flavors)
So the whole dildo/vibrator thing, I seriously only laughed the first couple of times. I did sell a rather imposing looking to one a waifish looking guy though. It was double-headed even. I mean the dildo not the guy, who was waifish. He didn't exactly "give me the eye" but I gotta feelin' my hands on the self gratification device will be a lasting image for him. (Imagine me shuddering for about three seconds right....now.)
So some of the regulars are interesting. There's this 75-year old man, who by the way doesn't look a day over 68, who I guess comes in nearly every day to switch out his movies. Or every other day I would guess, cause they're two day rentals. Anyway, this guy is loud, pretty funny but he had a mouth on him. Every other word was fuck. I'm used to slightly more...structured retail environs. This confused, yet bemused and even amused (which is very similar in meaning to bemused) me. He also looked a little like Nipsey Russell, which helped with the amusement.
Did you know Debbie Does Dallas has been re-mastered for DVD? You do now.
Guess what? So has Deep Throat.
[Editor's Note: I'm told both could be found in the new releases section.]
Oooh, located just outside the theaters? Snack bar. I shit you not friends. For sale are delicacies like Shakespeare's Pizza and White Castle cheeseburgers. Or are they just White Castles with cheese? Are the burgers at White Castle called burgers? Help me people, blogging ain't a spectator sport.
Next to the snack bar are some tables...with cloth chairs. Oh by the way, don't allow your skin to touch any cloth in the "back area" of the Olde Un. Although fear not friends, for a temp service is employed to, twice daily, clean the theater and booth areas.
Also in the back area is a pool table and a TV with cable. I saw my first episode of Drawn Together. The Superman-esque character was in a wheelchair. Seemed kinda wrong, and yet, considering where I was, kind of appropriate.
Oh, by the way, the guy with half a leg who had been reporting on the activities of the all-male cabaret to us, in his words, "straight folk" was also watching Drawn Together as was another wheelchair-bound gentleman who chose to patronize the straight theater. They both found the episode very funny.
[Editor's Note: The gay wheelchair man claims the straight wheelchair man is in the closet. Not sure what that means. The closets are for employee use only.]
The back area also has a really cool Falstaff Beer clock. I want it. Yet, who knows what stories that clock could tell.
You ever seen those singing deer heads in stores? Olde Un has Polly the Insulting Parrot. Turned it on to see what he says, he told a customer to fuck off. Whoops. Sold one to two guys spun out on meth though.
By the way, do not (underlined) take photos inside the Olde Un. That is an invasion of the privacy of others. Also, I need plausible deniability for this someday.
Have you seen this Livestrong bracelet Lance Armstrong peddles? (Livestrong--Armstrong...hey, I just got that.) Oh, you have. Well maybe you haven't seen every other cause, sports team and alternative message of nihilism also make up their own bracelet. Oh, you've seen those too. Well, you ain't seen nothin' yet. No, no, no, no, no you just aiiiin't seen nothin' yet. (Air guitar--cue the two big strums...now.)
To raise money for the legal fund against a certain anti-porn crusading Missouri senator who shall remain nameless (primarily because I can't remember his name right now) the Olde Un is selling Show-Me Freedom of Expression bracelets! Only $2.
So it's honestly not as bad as I might have thought. Of course I haven't worked Swingers Night. Though it is still pretty strange, and of course I haven't worked Swingers Night yet. Any amusement I get from telling people where my part-time job happens to be is also mixed with a certain amount of embarrassment. It's also not a lot of hours and I am obligating myself to pretty much every Saturday night, which happens to be Swingers Night.
To summarize, I'm not sure how long I'll keep this one, but I can promise you one thing. As long as I do work there, the stories will come...hilarity will ensue.
Do you need to buy some batteries tonight? Lube? Oh, yes...we've got...in a variety of colors and flavors.
JeffRey
With today's present economic climes being as they are, I've made the decision to pursue additional streams of revenue. Now being a wage slave, a modern day serf if you will, to the Holiday Inn...finding said additional sources of income has been less than easy.
That said, I have, temporarily at least, found a regular 8-hour gig every Saturday night. It's a retail job....part of a billion dollar industry in fact. I am now a part-time sales clerk...at the Olde Un Theater.
Now for those not in the know, and those in the know who really just want me to explain it, the Olde Un Theater advertises itself as...the store for lovers. A less discerning sort would refer to the Olde Un Theater as, well, a smut shop. (Or is it shoppe?)
I know. I know. I know. The lovely Brook's mother has already shamed me enough, I'm thinking/hoping in a half-joking way, so keep your motherly comments of indignation to yourselves. Additionally, and knowing most of you as I do probably more importantly, yes I do get an employee discount and no I will not buy you anything.
So I started my training last night. Don't fret, first-hand knowledge of inventory is not required. This was more to get the lay (no pun intended damn you) of the land and learn the computer system. So...impressions?
It's a little disarming walking into a porn shop. You are immediately hit with, in the words of Jim Belushi from About Last Night, "tits and ass, tits and ass, tits and ass."
We've all been in stores like this....right? We make fun of the titles like Oklahomo, Bang that Black Bitch White Boy and All Dat Azz (which incidentally has many volumes). Any girl who's been to a bachelorette party has seen the penis popsicles or the t-shirts with the sex scavenger hunts on them. You don't want to hear about that stuff. You want the stories.
What are the customers like? Well you do have your packs of sorority sisters buying their gag gifts for wedding showers and bachelorette parties. These are normally vibrators of the smaller, i.e. slightly normal, variety.
Oh, by the by, since nothing is returnable at the Olde Un, naturally I hope you all would think, every vibrator must be tested by the sales clerk. Now, I don't mean "tested" tested, but I did have to put batteries in some of these bad boys and turn them on. I can't type that without giggling, so I'm sure you can imagine how difficult this was for me.
Anyway, like I said normal vibrators are for those unembarrassed about what they want and for the one person in twenty who is actually buying the "gag" gift. On the other hand, buying a cosmetic hand shaped as a...well a fist. That's no gag gift. That's a ball-gag gift. Also, people, the bigger a deal you make about it not being for you...you might as well tell us exactly how you're going to use it on yourself and your husband.
Oh, speaking of husbands, this one lady bought some of that de-sensitizing cream for a guy's Octagon and Doctor Noisewaters. The husband/boyfriend/premature ejaculator feigned interest in looking at the DVD's for rent on the other side of the store, but we all know the truth.
Oh, public service announcement, exotic dancers are invited to use the "professional discount" on all lingerie and boots. No word on whether escorts may enjoy a discount on the contraceptives.
Since you brought up condoms. One guy puzzled me at first by purchasing just one condom (mint flavored?). My puzzlement turned when I saw him leave the commercial area of the store and enter the theater area. Oh, riiiight.
Did I mention the theaters? There are three types. The first would be a preview booth. What's that you ask. Well, the gist would be...why rent the DVD and take it home when you can watch it here? For $7 you rent the room for 2 hours and may watch a DVD of your choice from the stores shelves. Fair warning...cloth couches.
Type 2: The peep shows. These are the stereotypical booths where one pumps quarters into a TV and watches snippets of porn. Glory holes? Not an urban legend. Although they are more like glory doggie-doors. No actually I think they slide...like in a confessional booth. Huh.
The final type of theater would be the actual theater. Now, I've not yet gone inside any of these (and quite thankfully have been assured I probably won't have to) but the description of the theaters is they have a big-screen TV and couches inside. Two of the three are for straight films. Although on weekends one theater does switch to couples only for what I'm told is a rather active Columbia swingers scene. The final theater is the all-male cabaret.
What goes on in these rooms? I'm told anything and everything goes on in these rooms. In fact, one gentlemen with only half a leg motored back and forth from the theaters to the store on his little scooter to give us a play by play on the drama unfolding between a certain young lady and her boyfriend, whom she found (shockingly) in the all-male cabaret.
I actually saw the girl walk through the story, coming to the realization of where the boyfriend was. She had this look on her face....it's like, uh...who's the chick that married Jackson Pollock? Right, Marcia Gay Harden. It's like she knew Jackson was going to touch the other boy's paint brushes when he hung out with certain boys. She just knew it. So she must have had the look on her face this girl had. Follow? Good.
[Editor's Note: Those of you who've seen Pollock may not remember the scenes in the film as described by the author in the above paragraph. That would be because they weren't in the film. They did happen though. The author has read the full Pollock biography, from which a small piece was culled to make the screenplay. It's science.]
I've only worked there one night! It was, I'm told, a slow night! I haven't even worked a couples night yet! I still feel like I was in an episode of HBO's Real Sex.
This is off topic, but I think I am going to buy a pair of handcuffs. They're the kind the police use and offered in either stainless steel or steel with nickel plating. I can also get those type the highway troopers use. You know, the kind with no chain between the cuffs, thereby restricting movement even more?
Oh, leg irons are also available in the bondage section.
Guess how many different types of strap-ons there are. A lot.
Have you ever seen the episode of Arrested Development where Tobias goes to the spa? Body chocolate is a real thing. (And available in a variety of flavors)
So the whole dildo/vibrator thing, I seriously only laughed the first couple of times. I did sell a rather imposing looking to one a waifish looking guy though. It was double-headed even. I mean the dildo not the guy, who was waifish. He didn't exactly "give me the eye" but I gotta feelin' my hands on the self gratification device will be a lasting image for him. (Imagine me shuddering for about three seconds right....now.)
So some of the regulars are interesting. There's this 75-year old man, who by the way doesn't look a day over 68, who I guess comes in nearly every day to switch out his movies. Or every other day I would guess, cause they're two day rentals. Anyway, this guy is loud, pretty funny but he had a mouth on him. Every other word was fuck. I'm used to slightly more...structured retail environs. This confused, yet bemused and even amused (which is very similar in meaning to bemused) me. He also looked a little like Nipsey Russell, which helped with the amusement.
Did you know Debbie Does Dallas has been re-mastered for DVD? You do now.
Guess what? So has Deep Throat.
[Editor's Note: I'm told both could be found in the new releases section.]
Oooh, located just outside the theaters? Snack bar. I shit you not friends. For sale are delicacies like Shakespeare's Pizza and White Castle cheeseburgers. Or are they just White Castles with cheese? Are the burgers at White Castle called burgers? Help me people, blogging ain't a spectator sport.
Next to the snack bar are some tables...with cloth chairs. Oh by the way, don't allow your skin to touch any cloth in the "back area" of the Olde Un. Although fear not friends, for a temp service is employed to, twice daily, clean the theater and booth areas.
Also in the back area is a pool table and a TV with cable. I saw my first episode of Drawn Together. The Superman-esque character was in a wheelchair. Seemed kinda wrong, and yet, considering where I was, kind of appropriate.
Oh, by the way, the guy with half a leg who had been reporting on the activities of the all-male cabaret to us, in his words, "straight folk" was also watching Drawn Together as was another wheelchair-bound gentleman who chose to patronize the straight theater. They both found the episode very funny.
[Editor's Note: The gay wheelchair man claims the straight wheelchair man is in the closet. Not sure what that means. The closets are for employee use only.]
The back area also has a really cool Falstaff Beer clock. I want it. Yet, who knows what stories that clock could tell.
You ever seen those singing deer heads in stores? Olde Un has Polly the Insulting Parrot. Turned it on to see what he says, he told a customer to fuck off. Whoops. Sold one to two guys spun out on meth though.
By the way, do not (underlined) take photos inside the Olde Un. That is an invasion of the privacy of others. Also, I need plausible deniability for this someday.
Have you seen this Livestrong bracelet Lance Armstrong peddles? (Livestrong--Armstrong...hey, I just got that.) Oh, you have. Well maybe you haven't seen every other cause, sports team and alternative message of nihilism also make up their own bracelet. Oh, you've seen those too. Well, you ain't seen nothin' yet. No, no, no, no, no you just aiiiin't seen nothin' yet. (Air guitar--cue the two big strums...now.)
To raise money for the legal fund against a certain anti-porn crusading Missouri senator who shall remain nameless (primarily because I can't remember his name right now) the Olde Un is selling Show-Me Freedom of Expression bracelets! Only $2.
So it's honestly not as bad as I might have thought. Of course I haven't worked Swingers Night. Though it is still pretty strange, and of course I haven't worked Swingers Night yet. Any amusement I get from telling people where my part-time job happens to be is also mixed with a certain amount of embarrassment. It's also not a lot of hours and I am obligating myself to pretty much every Saturday night, which happens to be Swingers Night.
To summarize, I'm not sure how long I'll keep this one, but I can promise you one thing. As long as I do work there, the stories will come...hilarity will ensue.
Do you need to buy some batteries tonight? Lube? Oh, yes...we've got...in a variety of colors and flavors.
JeffRey
posted by The Crazy Leftist at 5:40 AM
1 Comments:
I don't know whether I should pitty you, envy you, or just laugh at/with you. I will probably do a bit of each depending on the stories you tell, and often more than one of each at a time. Looking forward to more!!
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