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So, WordPress has this fancy little page that shows you how many pageviews and all that you have, along with what links people clicked on to get to your blog, and what search terms they’ve used on Google that led them here.

Most people get here through whatever links I post on all my social networking pages (PS, you should do the same. C’moooon, if you love me you’ll do it!)

Two people, however, got here by way of the following search terms:

“cockrings for sale”

Two sad little cocks will have to go un-ring’d for a while. Sorry, fellas.


In relationships, they say you’ll never forget your first kiss, or your first serious boyfriend/girlfriend, or your first time getting laid.

In the adult sales industry, there’s a first you’ll ALWAYS remember: the first customer who brazenly asks questions about your sexual habits.

It’s to be expected that a lot of the customers, particularly the ones who have been coming to the store twice a week for several years, would be curious about the staff.¬† As with all customers, 99% are normal. While Neoboss was training me, if a (sane) regular came up and started to shoot the usual shit with her, she’d introduce me, and from then on out, we’d be able to have a perfectly normal conversation whenever they came in. The sane ones are a HUGE relief during a long crazy shift; it’s nice to look up when you hear the door open and know immediately that you can chill, that there won’t be any weird shit going down. One of the regulars, The Bouncer, even is the unofficial “bodyguard” for the staff (though, thank GOD, I’ve not had to ask him and hope I never will)- if he’s in the store and a creeper is lurking around, The Bouncer, will stick around until they leave, and will even stand guard in the parking lot while we close to make sure nobody follows us home. The Bouncer, like many of my customers, is a legit nice, normal dude.

For every nice guy, though, there’s a weirdo to keep you on your toes.

I was chilling at the front desk reading a magazine when an older dude came up. By “older dude”, I mean he was probably old enough to be my grandfather. A normal-enough looking big man with glasses, he’s the kind of guy you wouldn’t be surprised to see pulling on a Santa suit at Christmas for the youngest kids in the family. He paid for his tokens, gave a nod and said “Thanks, darlin'” as he walked to the back room. Nothing strange there- while the weirdos will pry for your personal info, the sane ones realize you probably don’t feel comfortable giving out even your name to a customer. As a result, it’s not unusual to hear “Hey doll, how’ve you been?” “Excuse me, darlin’,” “Thanks, little lady,” or “Have a good one, sweetheart” several times each during my shift. Like you’ll hear a lot here, 99% of the time, it isn’t creepy in the slightest; it’s more like how they’d probably address their usual waitress at their favorite restaurant, you know? Only instead of asking for a Denny’s Lumberjack Slam, they want to know if they can rent “A Lumberjack Slams Denny”.

Anyway, back to the old dude, the grandpa type. Normally, once they buy their first set of tokens (we require you purchase a small amount at the front desk before you go to the back room) they’ll stick to the machine that’s in the back room if they run out. This guy, however, kept coming up to the desk instead, and kept making idle chat as I rung him up. Like I said, not creepy behavior, just a little off the norm, if a porn store can have a norm. The last one, he decided to get personal. WAY WAY WAAAAAAAYY too personal.

(Note that anything italicized and in parentheses are my own thoughts, not part of the conversation.)

Old dude: “So, how long have you been working here now?”

PSG: “Just a couple weeks.”

Old dude: “You like it here, the store? Nice place to work?”

PSG: “Yeah, not too bad. Pays the bills and all that.”

Old dude: “I like it here, it’s a good store. I like to watch the movies, you know, ‘cos of the girls.”

PSG: (Odd…most don’t talk about their preferences unless they’re asking for a specific movie or something…) “Sure….”

Old dude: “I like the ones where the girls receive oral sex.”

PSG: “….”(Oh man…old dude’s breathing heavy...)

Old dude: “So, do you like oral sex?”

PSG: “….,……..” (you are the same age as my GRANDFATHER this is WEIRD)

Old dude: (clearly not noticing my complete horror) “You know, receiving it? Oral sex?”


PSG: (in a polite, offhand tone) “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m uncomfortable discussing my personal life with customers.”

Oh yeah. That happened. Grandpa Breather tried to ask about my sexual habits. And then after? TRIED TO ACT LIKE HIS QUESTION WAS AN EVERYDAY CONVERSATION TOPIC.

Old dude: (surprised tone) “Well, it’s just a fact of life, you know. Everyone has oral sex, it’s just a fact of life.”

PSG: (still polite) “I don’t discuss my personal life with customers, sorry.”

Old dude: (starts walking out the door, mildly huffy tone) “….fact of life, everyone has it.”

A few weeks later, we got one of our weekly DVD shipments in, and what’s one of the new releases?

“Barely Legal with Old Men”.

No joke, that shit will HAUNT you.

Yeah, thought that’d get your attention.

Anyway, WHAT UP. I’m pornshopgirl, or PSG. I’m a twentysomething sex-positive (look it up) female, and I work at a shop in a town on the globe. That shop sells porn and sex toys.

Naturally, I get some pretty strange characters walking in to make some preeettyyyy interesting purchases. Here’s where you get to read about them. GET EXCITED, YA’LL.

Before we get to the good shit, let’s set some ground rules, yeah?

1. Put the haterade back in the fridge, yo. That means play nice in the comments- be civil to fellow commenters; be civil to me; I’ll be civil to all you pervs. Don’t be a dickbag, and we won’t have any problems. Any comments of such a nature will be deleted immediately.

2. Though I’m an atheist, I’m pulling out the Bible for this one (that’s right, heathens can do it too!): Judge not lest ye be judged. This goes for both family and friends that I invite to read this, along with whoever else shows up. Before you go on a tirade about me working in a sick place or that I support people who diddle kids or that all my customers should be locked up, think about this: you all got here because two people somewhere did the nasty. Danced the horizontal tango. Made the beast with two backs. Simply put, somebody fucked someone else and you happened. It’s natural, and as long as everything is safe, sane, and consensual, it’s normal. That’s what being sex-positive means: I firmly believe that sex, as long as it is safe, sane, and consensual, should not be taboo, that it should be an open topic, and that all abstinence-only education should be replaced with safer sex education. This means before you all make a comment, think for a second. Think about those fuzzy handcuffs in your nightstand, that dildo the size of your forearm under the bed, the gallon-size bucket of warming lube (oh yeah. they sell them in GALLON BUCKETS. I shit you not.) in the closet–don’t you even lie, you know those are all there. Each and every one of you. That’s all I ask- think before you comment. I might swear more than a fucking sailor. I’ll bag up your vibrating cockring with a smile and ask if you’ll be needing any batteries today. I’ll candidly talk about sex and buttholes and every inappropriate thing you can imagine like it’s part¬† of an average conversation: “I had a grilled cheese for lunch. And I sold a fat trucker a stripper pole and a Fleshlight, he was cool.” And you know what? It’s all my choice, so if you’ve got an issue, get to steppin’, because I don’t want to hear your whining.

Cool? Cool.

Start watching this page for everything you’ve all been waiting for, the good dirty stuff that follows the “Ya want fries wit dat?” equivalent for adult stores…

Would you like lube with that?