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The Bouncer is easily described in two words: fuckin’ badass. He’s seriously so badass that when I Google’d “huge white security dude”, I got pictures of shark and a dinosaur. Clearly, this means The Bouncer was born when a shark and a dinosaur mated, and he was their glorious and terrifying offspring.

The Bouncer's mom.

The Bouncer's dad.

In reality, he kinda looks like that rapper Fat Joe, except about 150 pounds heavier, white, and doesn’t have a douchey mustache or grill.

Fat Joe does not buy porn at my store. Though that'd be pretty badass.

I’ve mentioned him before- he’s the one who, since he generally comes in towards the end of the night- we ask to stick around after close if someone’s a-creepin’. He sits out menacingly in his truck until they leave, and then gives us a merry wave as he drives off.

The Bouncer is called such because he is one deadly dude. He’s a black belt in several different forms of martial arts, and created and taught a new form. I don’t remember what it’s called, but he and a buddy got it legitimized and had their own dojo.  He was a real bouncer for a strip club nearby, and he didn’t politely ask dudes to leave- he’s the type to pick you up by the scruff of your neck and toss you out on your ass with a swift kick to the ribs for good measure. He is the Chuck Norris of the porn store, except for he doesn’t sell exercise machines with Christie Brinkley on late night tv. And he’s not a crazy Bible thumper.

On angry drunks busting up the strip club: “Back when the strip club opened, dudes would constantly be getting pissed off about shit and go punch up the drywall in the bathrooms. Me and the owner, we got sick of it. We decided to strip the walls down to the concrete and just put wallpaper over it. Many drunks with broken hands later, no more wall-punching!”

On handling dickbags who try to test him: “Every once in a while, we got a dude who was being a doucher, but not quite douchery enough for me to kick him out. That’s when I’d go get the most dominatrixy stripper we had, cos there’s always at least one. I’d point him out to her and ask her to take care of him, and she’d giggle maniacally and prance onstage when her song came on. She’d drag the dude up on stage, use his belt for a leash and lead him around on his hands and knees, then WHIP him with his own belt, and yank his underwear clean out of his pants with her bare hands. Seriously- she would hand him HIS OWN BOXERS. I saw a dude cry once. You don’t wanna fuck around with the scary stripper!”

On working in a mall’s pet store/why he hates kids: “We sold these CRAZY-EXPENSIVE cats, like 700 bucks a pop. They look like Garfield cats, I don’t know what the fuck they’re called. Squishy faces and you want to feed them lasagna. Anyway, we had a policy against kids under 18 coming in without parents, because kids are little shits and I hate them all. It was real early on a Saturday, and this 10 year old walks in. I figure, it’s still slow, so I’ll let it ride as long as he’s quiet, since I can keep an eye on him. He breaks three fucking rules in 30 seconds! He walks in, makes a beeline to the Garfield cage. Opens it up- strike one. PICKS UP A CAT- strike two. PROCEEDS TO SHAKE THE CAT AND DROP IT THREE FEET INTO THE CAGE. Hell. fucking. no. I come up behind him and just flat-out ROAR at him, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? GO GET YOUR MOTHER AND BRING HER BACK HERE. RIGHT FUCKING NOW.” He nearly shits his pants running out the door. Half hour later, he and his ma walk in. He’s being a perfect fuckin’ angel now, and his ma just looks at me and says hello, which makes me realize- the little bastard didn’t tell her! He just told her he wanted her to come to the store! So I decide to mess with his head. I ask real nice if they need any help, and he gives me this white-faced, wide-eyed look of terror from behind his mom’s back, and she’s all cheery and just looking. He keeps glancing back at me, willing me silently to not tell on him, when I can’t keep myself back. I wait until his mom’s back is turned, then I make the universal “you’re dead meat” motion: glare at him, bare my teeth, and make a throat-slitting motion. He started screaming and crying that he wanted to leave. *The Bouncer cracks up laughing* I got fired three hours later for it, but it was TOTALLY WORTH IT! Little fuckin’ bastard.”

See? Badass.

There’ll be more from The Bouncer in the future- I’ve got more of his stories tucked away for a rainy day.



  1. excellent. 😀

  2. Hi pornshopgirl! I enjoy your blog, I just started one with similar subject matter!

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