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Category Archives: toy box

A cute middle-aged couple walked in. The husband was perfectly at ease, while the wife was clearly embarrassed. They spent around half an hour in the store. Shy Wife was completely mortified when I came up and asked if they needed help, but Loud Hubby was full of questions and these hilarious gems:

Loud Hubby: “Do you  have any wireless vibrators that we can use together? I want to embarrass her in public even more than usual!”

PSG: “Well, we have these wireless vibrating panties over here, they have-”

Loud Hubby: “WOAH, those are awesome! Baby, look! They have this thing that goes up your hoo-ha, and a remote for me! We’ll be all at a fancy party, and you’ll be like, ‘Oh sir, nice to– *buzz buzz* OH GOD!”

Shy Wife: looks completely shocked, shakes her head weakly, and scurries away

Loud Hubby: “How about lube? You got any good flavored ones?”

PSG: “Yup, this Swiss Navy brand here, it’s made by a food manufacturer and not a toy maker, so it tastes like what it’s supposed to and doesn’t have a plasticky taste.”

Loud Hubby: samples the tester Passionberry lube, “Wow! Honey, we should get this, it’ll taste like my dick is a grape tree!”

Shy Wife: Goes bright red, smacks her hand on her forehead like she can’t believe this is happening, scurries away once more.

PSG: While ringing up their purchases, “Will you be  needing any condoms tonight?”

Loud Hubby: Cheerfully, “Oh, you’re so sweet, but no thanks! Got me the snip-snip so I can blow my load in her all I want!”

PSG and Shy Wife: Stare at each other wide-eyed in shock for a minute, then both crack up laughing.

A few minutes later when we composed ourselves, they left hand in hand, Loud Hubby swinging the bag cheerfully and Shy Wife still laughing. I should’ve asked if he has a younger brother, because that was easily the funniest thing that happened all week.


So it’s a slow-ass night when the phone rings.

PSG: “Good evening, thank you for calling [pornshop].”

Dude: “Yes, I bought a doggy-style blowup doll from you guys and I don’t know how to use it right to get off.”

PSG: …what. “Uh…pretty sure you just blow it up and…have at it?”

Dude: “Yes, I know that, but when I’m playing I can’t position it properly to get off. How do I do this?”

PSG: “…what?”

Dude: “Well, it’s a doggy-style doll, and when I put it on the bed I can’t get at it right to get off. Can you tell me what positions will work better?”

PSG: Um. It’s a doggy-style doll, so…..doggy style? “Well, since I’m a woman, I’ve never used a doll like that-” or, you know, at all. “-but maybe move it off the bed to the couch or something? Other than that I really can’t help you, I’m sorry.”

Dude: “Yeah, I TRIED that already. I need you to tell me what positions are gonna get me off!”

PSG: And I need YOU to realize that I DON’T HAVE A COCK AND THEREFORE CAN’T HELP YOU. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I really don’t know how I can help you.”

Dude: Lets out a HUGE sigh, “Fine. Is there anyone ELSE there who can help me?”

PSG: Oh HELL NAH, you’re not taking that tone with me. Not my fault you’re too stupid to fuck a BLOW-UP DOLL. “Nobody else is available right now, but the manager will be in tomorrow when we open. You can try asking her, but as she’s also a woman, I’m not really sure how much more she can assist you, unfortunately. Maybe try the internet to see if other people had the same problem?”

Dude: “Ugh, nevermind. Bye.”

Good luck, horny dumbass. At least he can’t procreate with it.

Waking up at 4am, working day job from 4:30am-7:30am, class from 8am-11am, work day job again from 11am-12:30pm, another class from 1pm-3:45pm, way-too-short nap from 4pm-4:30pm, working at the porn shop from 5pm-12:30am, knowing that  you have to wake up at 4am again tomorrow…………shitty and tiring.

Having two snobby, kind of bitchy former classmates shop in your store, knowing full well who you are and yet pointedly ignoring you…….awkward.

Letting them purchase shitty, uncomfortable vibrators that will probably die within the week…..mildly satisfactory.

Realizing that one has apparently become an anorexic crackho, the other got fat, and you’re still a sassy motherfucker living the good life…..priceless.

When people find out that I work at a porn store, one of the first questions they ask is, “But…is that safe?” My mom in particular hates that I work there because she’s concerned for my safety.

I do have keys to the store, so I can always quickly lock the front door if needs be. There’s also a panic button under the counter, and I always keep the store phone or my cell phone nearby, just in case.

Easily my favorite protection device, however, is….


Made by Doc Johnson Novelties, an excellent company, this is the Dick Rambone. It’s roughly seventeen inches long and weighs about three pounds. RIDICKULOUS. Since it’s hard to tell with just a picture of the toy, here’s a size comparison to an average man:

HE CAN’T EVEN FIT HIS WHOLE HAND AROUND IT. IT’S THAT BIG. For yet another size comparison, what else is roughly seventeen inches long and weighs about three pounds?

A full-grown adult Desert Cottontail. That’s right. This cock is the size of a large rabbit.

Why do I point out the Dick Rambone, you ask? Because you can bet if someone lunges at me, I’m not reaching for a box cutter…nope, I’m grabbing the beast of a dick that could probably knock out a horse.

Readers concerned for my safety, rest easy. Predators, beware: fuck shit up in MY store, you’re going to learn the new, terrifying meaning of the word “cockslapped.”

So I walk in one day for shift change and T-Mama is bug-eyed and LOSING HER SHIT. “GIRL. There is a SERIOUS CREEP MOTHERFUCKER in the back and he is freaking me out so bad. SO. BAD.”

Awesome. This is gonna be a FANTASTIC night.

So in hushed tones, in case this creepass is lurking and can hear us, T-Mama starts telling me what’s the what. He’s an older guy, pushing sixty, wearing like four shirts, a floppy sun hat, black gloves (in May, mind you)…….and several pairs of scissors on strings around his neck.


She then goes on to tell me that he’s got the crazyeyes. You know, when people get all shifty-like, and their eyes are rolling around to look at everything at once, occasionally not looking in the same direction, possibly a twitch going on- the crazyeyes. He’s also been randomly shouting at her, “TAPES! I’ve got TAPES! Tapes of the GIRLS! THE GIIIIIRLS!”

So there’s a legit crazy in the store bearing sharp objects. BITCHIN’, YO.

Over the next fifteen minutes, we’ve got one or two other customers wandering around the store, and Scissor Man shuffles out of the cock cave. Holy FUCK, ya’ll. Even if T-Mama hadn’t forewarned me, this motherfucker would have set off the creep-dar LONG before he stepped in the door. I mean, he was throwing off vibes that had me immediately praying “Oh god don’t peel off my face and wear it as a mask oh god oh god”…that kind of creepy.

So Scissor Man’s milling about the store, looking at movies and whatnot, and a woman in her early thirties walks up to the counter with a double-ended dildo and some lube. We’re still in the middle of shift change, because T-Mama’s totals are coming up WAY off, so the register’s still down; we apologize for the delay and tell her we’ll be ready in a minute if she wants to continue browsing. She hangs around the front counter, looking at the various pills and stuff to kill time, when Scissor Man lurks his way next to her.

Scissor Man: “Whatcha got there?”

Dildo Chick: “Um….a dildo.”

Scissor Man: “Let me buy that for you. HEY! PUT HER THING ON MY TAB, I’M PAYING.”

PSG: “Sorry, sir, we’re still working on shift change, so the register is down. It’ll just be a few-”


PSG: “…Sir, I’m sorry, but the register’s down, it’s going to be about ten mi-”



And because,  you know, God’s on vacation that day or just needs something to laugh at while he’s on the shitter, Scissor Man continues in this vein for the next ten minutes, alternating between trying to give me his money and leering at Dildo Chick. Dildo Chick’s getting more and more creeped out, T-Mama’s tweaking because she thinks she’s fifty bucks short, and I’m ready to slap the shit out of him. Great start to the night, great start.

Eventually, T-Mama figures out where she added wrong and does a dance that the drawer’s even, and we’re back on track. I ring up Scissor Man for his movie and Dildo Chick’s dildo, and he walks out the door.

Dildo Chick: “…he’s gonna be waiting out there for me, isn’t he?”

PSG: “Yeah, probably, just hang out around here for five minutes and T-Mama can check if he’s still there when she leaves.”

Dildo Chick: “Thanks. He’s probably hoping to use this with me, but me and my husband and my girlfriend are celebrating my birthday tonight…the only reason I let him pay for it was so I could have fifteen more bucks to spend on booze tonight.”

Well, happy birthday indeed! You go, Dildo Chick!

The three of us shoot the shit for a few minutes while T-Mama gathers her stuff, and in the meantime, a male customer who had quietly observed the ordeal from a safe distance exits, then enters again two seconds later…”

Guy: “I pretended to forget my sunglasses in here to give ya’ll a heads up, he’s still out there actin’ a shady motherfucker.”


They stall for another couple minutes, then T-Mama gets impatient, since she’s gotta get to her kids. She grabs a boxcutter and stomps out the front stoop, mumbling something about “stabbin’ that fucker right in his crazyass fuckin’ eyeballs” as she yanks the door open. She closes the boxcutter and tosses it back at me while simultaneously running out the door, yelling “Yeah, that shifty bastard ran right back in his car when saw me! Girl, get your dildo and jump in your car while you got the chance!”

Dildo Girl quickly scampered out the door, and the two left, so I went about the rest of my business. Twenty minutes later, a college-age couple walks in, looking in the direction that T-Mama glared at earlier, and walked in looking baffled.

PSG: “Shady ass old dude wandering over there still?”


They’re in the store for about ten minutes, and when they leave I ask  them to signal me if he’s still there or not. Thankfully, they shook their heads and gave me a thumbs-up, or else I’d have called the fuzz on that motherfucker.

I lucked out and nothing else creepy happened that night, but ever since, I keep that boxcutter sharp and handy. Never know when you’re gonna have to stab some crazyass fuckin’ eyeballs.

So our store is set up pretty much like any other adult store. For those of you who are pretending you’ve never been in such a place and are asking what it looks like anyway, here’s the layout:

The store is set up into thirds. One third of the store is the movie section. These are organized into New Releases, Sale, and then categorized into either production studio or genre. We only have the cases on display; the actual movies are kept behind the desk until you purchase, rent, or preview them. The movie section, since it is most visited by males, also features male toys: the Fleshlight, jackoff sleeves, and penis pumps.  And I gotta admit, every time I go by that section, I can’t help but think of Austin Powers…”One Swedish-made penis enlarger pump.” I don’t think any of ours are Swedish though.

The next third of the store is the toy section. There’s two huge racks for magazines, a small wall for condoms and cockrings, a display for lubes and lotions, a display for miscellaneous stuff, and an incense rack. All of the walls here display different sex toys, by category: anal, dildos, vibrators, rabbits, bondage, stimulators, lingere, party gags, and clearance. Personally, I include the front desk area as part of the toy section, since it’s closest to that and has more products up there: sexual enhancement pills and creams, some candy novelties, hairdye for your downstairs (because you KNOW you want a purple pelt), and some random toys we have overstock of. Behind the front desk, we’ve got all the actual discs from the movies, batteries for testing toys before they leave the store, the DVD players and small screen for previews, and all our miscellaneous crap.

The last third isn’t actually on the main floor of the store. In professional terms, it’s called an arcade. Personally, I call it “the back room”, “the booths”, or “the cave of many cocks”.  There’s an open doorway next to the front desk leading to a dark back room- the arcade. In here, there are nine regular booths and three preview booths. In the regular booths, there are sixteen channels, each with a different movie; put tokens in and pick a channel. The preview booths work a little differently. For movies under a certain time limit, a customer can watch the whole thing for a flat rate of a few bucks. If he decides to buy it after, we knock that fee off the price of the DVD.  This is called a preview; we keep the DVD players up front and start the movie for the customer, who can then fast forward or rewind at his leisure. We have a small screen up front to make sure the movies are set up and playing properly, but there’s no sound. That can be pretty amusing. Since one of the first things a person sees when walking in is me, right next to a tv screen with frantic fucking on the screen, a lot of my conversations with first-time customers go a little like this:

“Customer: Oh god.

PSG: ….what?

Customer: Is that….is she….

PSG: (follows their line of sight to the screen) Oh yeah. Sasha Grey is definitely banging a dude who’s wearing a bear suit.”

Yeah, we’re not horribly professional here. It’s kinda hard to be when you’re talking about dicks all day. Who’s “we”, you ask? That’d be the porn store crew! There are four of us total: Neoboss, Bond, T-Mama, and me, PSG.

Neoboss is the manager. She’s in her mid-thirties and chill as all get-out. She works the morning shift Monday through Friday, and she’ll usually call in at least once during our shift to just chat and see how things are going. She’s amazingly organized and determined to run a successful shop, which we are- she brought the store up some 15 percent in sales last year. There’s no “if you have time to lean,  you’ve got time to clean!” nonsense here. She gets that you can only wipe a counter so many times before you start rubbing the varnish off, so as soon as our basic cleaning chores are done for the day, we’re done. We can read during our shifts, but only if they’re store magazines, so either the skin mags like Hustler and Penthouse, or the industry mags, like Adult Video News or one of the toy catalogs behind the desk.  She doesn’t yell at us for swearing or talking back at rude customers…mostly because she does it more than any of us. She’ll be the first to chase down an asshole for flipping the bird as he walks out, just so she can give him what-for as he drives away.

Bond, the assistant manager, is the lone male of the store. No, he’s not called Bond for some pervy reason, you dicks, it’s because he’s your average late-twenties dude who loves James Bond movies. He’s the first one to snap up the Bond parodies when we get them in the store (employees get free rentals). My first shift, one of our regular customers, Spoof, came in and asked him how the Octopussy 3-D parody was; they had a good ten-minute discussion about it. Bond is the store’s movie guru; if a customer wants a recommendation or asks how this or that movie was, we call Bond over.  Whenever we do shift change, there’s usually a dance party involved, or excited discussions over this week’s “How I Met Your Mother” episode.

T-Mama and I are on the low rung of the ladder, the clerks. T-Mama’s in her late twenties with three kids, and she also cracks me up. Bond, T-Mama, and I make up and evening and weekend shifts. Most of my and T-Mama’s shifts overlap for shift change, so we see each other all the time. She’s also quick to call out customers on their rudeness, and she’ll forewarn me of any creepers in the back room to prepare me for their antics.  Out of all of us, she’s the one who most often takes advantage of the employee 40% discount- girl buys stuff pretty much every other shift.

So, that’s our happy little family in our twisted little home.  Tune in a couple hours from now for more on the Regulars and some creepy dudes!