2002-12-04

Back when I used to work in the porn industry�hee! OK, I just wanted to start an entry that way. Seriously, I was a smut peddler for a while, years ago. I worked in an adult video store. I applied mostly because I thought it would be funny, and when they actually offered me the job I took it mostly because�I thought it would be funny. I figured it would leave me with an inexhaustible trove of hilarious anecdotes, perfect for livening things up at book club meetings and dinners with my grandmother.

After a few months, though, working at the spank mag store was really starting to leave a bad taste in my mouth. (Do I really have to make the joke here? I'm sure about a dozen have just popped into your grubby little minds. Pick one and have a good snigger.) Being forced to smile at the leering patrons as they came up to the counter with movies like "Anal Cunts: these bitches take it up the ass!" clutched in their sweaty palms was just the fertilizer my misanthropy needed to swell to Olympian proportions, and I had to quit or I'd have found myself buying a cottage in the wilderness and drawing up plans for mass pipe bombings.

Amusing anecdotes were heavy on the branches though, and ripe for the picking. Whoa, lord, were they ever. For example: my sister and I both worked at the same store, although on different shifts, of course. One night a 'gentleman' (and I use the term anthropomorphically) came up to the counter. It was two-for-one night, and he was going for an epic wank of eight or so (overnight!) rentals. As I was ringing in his videos, he said "You cut your hair!" Since that was not in fact the case, I guessed that he was mistaking me for my sister, who had longer hair than I did at the time.

"No, you're thinking of my sister," I said. "She works here too."

You should have seen this guy's eyes light up. He was like a little girl on Christmas morning finding a pony under the tree. Sisters! Working together! At a porn store!

"Are you guys twins?" he asked breathlessly.

"No." I said.

This is the best part:

"Are you sure?"

Apparently most of this guy's interactions with members of the (human race) opposite sex had hitherto taken the form of conversations on phone sex lines, where the 'fox' on the other end would describe herself according to specification. Let me think - oh yes! We ARE twins! And Swedish ones, too! Who like it dirty, baby.

"Yes," I answered. "I am sure. We're not twins."

"Your sister is very pretty," he said. "You tell her that if she ever leaves her boyfriend, she can come stay with me. You too. You're very pretty." I thanked him for his generosity and he continued on his wanking way. After that, every time he saw me on the street, he'd greet me enthusiastically, even after I told him point blank several times to fuck off.

Ah, the memories. If you're good little boys and girls, maybe someday I'll tell you more stories about Robin at the Smut Store.