Porn Store Stories: Whacked Out Wednesday

A few years ago I worked at an “adult novelty store”. Craziest job ever. I used to mentally compose letters to my more colorful customers and write them in a blog after I got home. That blog is long gone; these are the stories that I still have.

Dear Homeless Guy,

 

I don’t mind if you come in the store to look around and get out of the outside for awhile, even though I know you aren’t going to buy anything. I don’t even mind that you expect me to make small talk with you. It’s not like I’m busy. I do, however, mind listening to you tell me all about how wonderful you think Rush Limbaugh is and spouting all of his talking points at me. I’m not going to get into a political debate with you. I’m just not. But you do realize Rush wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire, right? Why on earth would you follow that gasbag? Time for you to go…

 

Signed,

Hoping You Don’t Vote… For Your Own Sake

 

Dear Drunk Stripper,

 

Um. Thank you for the hug, but for future reference, it’s very unsettling to me when a complete stranger runs behind the counter and bear hugs me. Don’t worry, I won’t forget the stripper discount. Maybe you should go hug that guy that’s paying for your stuff… you know, the one that stood outside the fitting room while you drunkenly tried on a mountain of clothes? He told me that he was in for an expensive night… looks like he was right. Least you could do would be to hug him.

 

Signed,

No Hugs For Me

 

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