Tuesday, May 5, 2009

when the appropriate becomes inappropriate

There are certain conversations that you will inevitably be forced to partake in if you work in a sex shop. "Have you used this?" asked by a middle-aged female who looks disturbingly like my mom referring to the "Romping Rabbit." "Could you tell us which one of these is better?" said by the tall Scandinavian couple trying to decide which vibrating cock ring to buy. "Which one of these do you recommend?" asked by the older gent in a suit holding up a couple of penis pumps.

For these types of questions, there are several go-to answers any sex shop employee who would much rather be watching Netflix than talking to seemingly normal people with pervy questions must have ready. "No." "It depends on the individual." And blank stare. (That last one comes in handy a lot.)

After a while, you get used to these kinds of questions and sooner than you'd think, you're expounding in Spanish upon the differences between ingredients in erection cream or "el flan erecto," as it were.

But one thing about conversing in a sex shop that remains awkward is when a customer tries to make small talk about everyday activities, such as reading a book.

"What are you reading?" asked the older man buying an extremely large blue butt plug.

"Uh. Russian Debutante's Handbook."

"Oh. Is it new?"

"Um, no. It came out before Absurdistan."

"Yes, I've heard of that. What's the author's name?"

"Gary Shteyngart."

"Shteyngart, you say."

"Yes."

"Well, very good. It looks like you're enjoying it. Has the action been resolved yet? I see you're toward the end." [Ed. note: That's what she said!]

"Nope. I don't think it will be resolved til the last page."

"That's the best kind of book -- the kind that keeps you interested til the very end."

"Uh, yep...so just this butt plug for you?"

Welcome to my twisted, retardulous world.

And speaking of twisted and retardulous and porn (although we weren't really speaking about porn, I suppose), this might be the perfect segue during which I can introduce a Web site forwarded to me by a good friend in honor of my hilariously awkward job -- hilariously awkward SFW porn!


Yum! Breakfast in bed!

It's a downward spiral, e-friends. Hold on to your croissants.

4 comments:

The Hostess said...

You'll get used to those conversations after a while. Trust me, I worked at the Pleasure Place in G-Town for two years (to the date actually) and after about the first 6 months, I found the awkward convos about everyday mundane to be a welcome break from the usual sex chat. I think the best convos I had in that store were the political convos w/ co-workers while everyone else around us was looking for giant purple dicks, pink bunny shaped cock rings, and soft blue butt plugs. Oh how fun those days were!

Marissa said...

You know, I think you're right. Some dude came in last night in bicycling gear. I found myself STARTING a convo with him about trails around DC while he bought his lube and vibrating cock ring. I guess it's only awkward if it's a creepy old man making small talk with you. But, then again, making forced small talk with a creepy old man would be awkward anywhere...

ListenToLeon.net said...

This is hilarious! You'll NEVER run out of funny stories to tell working somewhere like this LOL

Also, thanks for the SFW porn site!

The Hostess said...

I hope you don't mind my asking, but which sex shop do you work at? Like I said, I worked at the one in G-Town, which I hated on Fridays and Saturdays when everyone and their mother showed up drunk, especially the stupid bachelorette parties! Ha ha ha!!