My time as a porn peddler
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 07:38
I've had a lot of jobs in my life. I've worked in kitchens, loaded trucks, sat in the secretarial pool. I've been in plays, burgled homes and cars, done door-to-door encyclopedia sales. But one of my favorite jobs was as a porn peddler.
Don't judge me, dude. You've done things you weren't proud of either. Besides, it was only for two weekends. My time there was horrible and the pay would have sucked if I hadn't been skimming off the register. Why was it one of my favorite jobs, then? Easy. Two short weekends. Many, many, many stories.
I could tell you about the swinger couple that came in looking for the local swinger mag and wanted to break off a piece of the Tom. I could tell you about the gay dude that wanted to rape me (lesson: always bring a weapon to work in your porn shop career!). I could tell you about Conspiracy Dave and the rampant Man-Scent episode. I could tell you about the booth token guy who was dissatisfied with the quality of porn currently running in our private booth-theaters. But I'm gonna tell you about something a little more sedate for now. I'm gonna tell you about the man who didn't know where he was.
So I'm sitting there watching my black-n-white TV. The reception was a bit fuzzy, but when you are stuck sitting behind a counter trying to ignore the patrons for a straight 15 hour shift, you don't care about such things. It was getting late in the day. The tourists were leaving the beach, which meant I got to watch them passing by the front of the "book store" as walked back to their cars and hotels.
Now, I don't know what the guy was thinking. Maybe he thought "hey, I need a good book". Maybe his wife pushed him into it. I dunno. What I do know is that the store was otherwise empty when a husband, a wife, and their two little girls came waltzing into the porn shop. They didn't approach the counter, but rather went right to browsing the books in the front of the store.
I should explain. The store, because Virginia Beach was a bit uptight about such things, had an area in the front with cards and regular books for sale. The area was small and ended abruptly in a wall with a single door and a sign: "$3.00 for admittance past this point". Beyond the pay-for-play portal lie a cornucopia of pornography, from obscene to banal, awaiting the lascivious consumer. The front of the store---that veneer of normalcy slapped haphazard over the naked rear---was filled with musty paperbacks and rusting card racks.
So this guy and his family are walking around the tiny front end of the store perusing damp books and dusty cards. Without being obvious I'm trying to get the guy's attention---no point in letting his kids find out the hard way what sort of store their dad brought them into---when the mother calls out to me.
"These cards have cobwebs on them. You must not sell a lot of them!"
"Sure don't, Ma'am. It's not really our main product" Nudge nudge wink wink. Come on dude! You gotta get the hint now, right?
"Say honey", the guy says, "I found a copy of Dicken's 'Copperfield'. It's a bit worn looking, but I think I'll get it." Dude it's not worn. It's just been sitting there for like 15 years without human contact. Wake up and smell the scented oils, idiot!
So, I drop a few hints like this and they just keep shopping. I should add, I'm sitting behind a counter and the wall behind me advertises, for all to see, the more sedate of our "toy" collection---Oils and back massagers and such. Now, at the time I was a different person. Other's welfare wasn't high on my list of concerns, but even I saw the value in keeping kids from noticing the items behind me. Finally, the family comes waddling up to me, moldering books in hand. The guy starts the small talk.
"Pretty small store you have here."
"Yeah, well there's a lot more in the other section." My eyes try to lead him to the $3 admittance sign he's managed to miss as he walked past it 8 or so times so far. "The stuff up front is not our bread and butter here. Do you understand me?" Nothing. Blank stare. The kids are all scanning the wall behind me. Any second now they are gonna get what dad doesn't.
"Oh, what is your bread and butter then?" Blind and dumb. I swear, it's a wonder this guy managed to breed.
Finally his wife notices the sign. "You have to pay to see the rest of the store?" I nod ominously and give the knowing look to the guy, who for the first time realizes where he is.
"Honey, ya know what? We should go get dinner. I'm hungry. Let's leave now."
"But we're not done paying for the books?"
I interject, "It's cool. Take em. You look hungry. Consider it a gift. Go eat." I see curiosity dawning on the oldest girl. She is obviously waiting for a break in the conversation to ask her mom a question about the items behind me. Something like "Mommy, what does 'aphrodisiac' mean?" or "Daddy, that's a strange shape for a back massager. How does it work?"
The husband, with a quick thanks, grabs the bag of old books and his wife's arm and drags them both out the door as if the building were about to collapse. I can hear the wife all the way to the street "That sure was nice of him to give us these books."
Yes. I'm sure the store owner will miss them. I'll have to tell him to order another copy of 'Copperfield'. I know he'd hate to think his store was open for business without some good Dickens for sale.