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.

Posted by michelle on Friday, December 29th, 2006 at 3:20 pm.