The porn store had more than it’s share of odd toys.  Here are just a few…

Pleasure Periscope – land ho!

Anoscope — dirty land ho!

Expandable butt plug — maybe this should be used before the anoscope…

The Accomodator — for when you just wanna do it all.

Penis traction device — If this really worked, we would have sold out…

Easy Grow Breast Pump — Same goes for this one…

Mini Mouse — I’m not sure how this is supposed to be sexy.

Osaki Vibrator – Old man and a beaver.

Gerbil Flex Pleaser Wand– and yes, it even has a little gerbil face.

The Osaki vibrator was the one I disliked the most. Why would you buy a vibrator with an old man on it? Gerontophilia, anyone?

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Someone I went to college with deleted me from his MySpace friends because he didn’t like what I said about our college in this blog. I never would have taken him as someone to get offended that easily. Who knows… maybe he’s still upset that I kissed his sister once at college, but not him.

So I’m curious, has anyone been upset with you about something you blogged about? Do tell… I would hate to feel alone on this one : )

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At one point when I worked at the porn store, one of the churches in the area decided to protest our existence in their neighborhood.  Some church folks thought school students could walk by and see into the windows.

Now I suppose if anyone stuck their little noses against the glass, they could see in… in between the clothing displays that were put in the windows to block the view. But all they had for their viewing pleasure were greeting cards, lotions, and lingerie.  All the “good stuff” was behind another wall… like the big butt magazines, vibrating phallic bunnies, even the clown porn was behind that wall… away from prying eyes.

The church contacted the newspaper and there was an article written about the porn store. Guess what happened?  People saw that article and came in to check us out. A few new customers even told me that they didn’t know about us until they read the newspaper article. Score for us.  

I guess the church talked about our sinful little store one day in the sermon, or adult Sunday school, or whatever forum it was that Sunday morning.  And after church…. more than a few people from the church came in to check us out.  I think they were trying to see how sinful we really were, but some of them actually bought stuff. 

It just goes to show you that bad publicity can be good publicity… especially with anything vaguely sinful like a porn store.           

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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 : )

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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 :)

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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.

Bahua

Cubicle Gangsta

Dangerblog

Death’s Door

Flogging of America

General Blather

Grease Melon

Happy in Bag

Hip Suburban White Guy

ITchickie 

Just Cara

M.Toast

My Spyderweb

My Town, My Take

Plog

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… 
 

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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 : ) 

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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 : )

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Keith suggested I write about how I started working in the porn store. I was 21 and attending an itty bitty teeny weeny Christian college in the middle of BFE Kansas and I hated it. It was pretty much a continuation of going to a small high school where everyone knew everyone else’s business.

Now I’m sure several people love small schools, but I was slowly going crazy at this place because I wanted to let my freak flag fly… I just couldn’t without everyone there knowing about it by the next day, including the lunch lady.

So I did what a lot of people do… I took a “semester off”. (That semester turned into a few years, but I finally finished my degree.) I moved to Kansas City where I knew no one, hence no one could talk about me and I could do whatever the hell I wanted. If I got flirty and (gasp!) kissy with someone, no one came up to me later and tried dragging me to chapel to get saved. 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 proabably 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 : )

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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. 

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