New pages up!
Shocking customer behavior!
Keep your batteries charged! ~Alice
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Gross Dildos (a public service courtesy of your local sex shop employee)
At my store (which shall remain anonymous), we sell toys for all walks of life. We have vibrators that range from 6 dollars (The Shane's World hard plastic vibrator) to 150 big ones (Couture Collection medical-grade silicone dual-motor vibrator). They range from hard to squishy, from whisper-quiet to unknown decibels, from phallic to animalistic, from itty-bitty to monstrous (See: Belladonna's Banger), and everything in between.
Materials range from medical grade silicone and plastic to glass, aluminum, and stainless steel. They tend to be a little more pricey. The softer materials are usually made of TPR, TPE, PVC, and other 3-letter acronyms that I have no clue of their meaning, and tend to be on the "more affordable" side.
Some people have been mis-educated in the ways of these materials. Certain people won't even touch a package unless what is inside is non-porous (hard plastic, silicone, aluminum, stainless steel, glass...) because they have been told that these materials are POISON and will cause CANCER!!! This is all thanks to Oprah and certain public services of snooty sex shops.
These materials are generally safe and hygienic (provided they are cleaned on a regular basis and don't go from the brown to the pink). I have no problem recommending these products to customers as long as I inform people of the maintenance required.
However, in SOME of these materials, a chemical is added to give it some extra squish. These chemicals, known as Phthlates, have been known to cause cell damage in lab rats. (See: POISON!!! OH NO!!!)
Seriously? Lab rats? Any PEOPLE ever come forward and complain of cell damage? If you hear of any, let me know.
I did some research on these Phthlates to see if they were indeed as horrible as some people say they are (they have been referred to as "poison" by some of the more yuppie shops in the area), because if they truly are harmful, why the hell would companies continue to use them?
The studies do indeed show cell damage from long-term exposure in lab rats, but they are injecting these chemicals directly into the bloodstreams of these animals. ANY chemical would cause cell damage if injected in that volume directly into the bloodstream.
Are you putting your vibrator into your blood? No? Then I think you're fine.
In order to detect these phthlates, just take a whiff. That common "plastic" smell is caused by the added phthlates.
We come into contact with these EVERY DAY, SEVERAL TIMES! It's not like using a vibrator one time will give you cancer.
The studies suggested some places where phthlates show up: Household tupperware, rubbermade containers, shower curtains, some children's toys, laundry baskets, plastic bags, and anywhere else that plastic needs some extra flexibility. Never in any of these studies did they mention the "dangers" of sex toys that include these chemicals.
It might, on the other hand, give you a nice rash if you're allergic to the material, similar to one caused by a latex allergy. If you buy this product without knowing if you're allergic or not, that is not my fault!
The gross thing about these phthlates is that they STINK! Sometimes the smell is so strongly it can give me a headache. The smell ranges from "kind of plastic-y" to "I do believe this was sprayed by a skunk..."
But, after a while, the harmful part of the chemical goes away (go ahead, sniff your shower curtain, I'm sure it's vapors are gone).
Products that contain Phthlates are not "bad," but I tend to recommend something else if a customer has picked out a toy containing the material. If THAT is the toy the customer wants, I usually warn him/her of the possible side effects of using said toy. To avoid any of these, I recommend they be washed a few times with liquid soap (I recommend all-natural dish soap or baby shampoo, as these don't contain additives that will break down the material or leave residue behind), and soaked in HOT soapy water for a few hours to get the initial smell off. After that, use a condom with it until the smell fades away.
In the common occurrence that customers don't even WANT my help, I go ahead and allow them to buy a gross stinky toy that might give them a rash or yeast infection. That's what you get for being too shy to talk to a friendly sales associate to pick out a decent vibrator.
Keep your batteries charged! ~Alice
Materials range from medical grade silicone and plastic to glass, aluminum, and stainless steel. They tend to be a little more pricey. The softer materials are usually made of TPR, TPE, PVC, and other 3-letter acronyms that I have no clue of their meaning, and tend to be on the "more affordable" side.
Some people have been mis-educated in the ways of these materials. Certain people won't even touch a package unless what is inside is non-porous (hard plastic, silicone, aluminum, stainless steel, glass...) because they have been told that these materials are POISON and will cause CANCER!!! This is all thanks to Oprah and certain public services of snooty sex shops.
These materials are generally safe and hygienic (provided they are cleaned on a regular basis and don't go from the brown to the pink). I have no problem recommending these products to customers as long as I inform people of the maintenance required.
However, in SOME of these materials, a chemical is added to give it some extra squish. These chemicals, known as Phthlates, have been known to cause cell damage in lab rats. (See: POISON!!! OH NO!!!)
Seriously? Lab rats? Any PEOPLE ever come forward and complain of cell damage? If you hear of any, let me know.
I did some research on these Phthlates to see if they were indeed as horrible as some people say they are (they have been referred to as "poison" by some of the more yuppie shops in the area), because if they truly are harmful, why the hell would companies continue to use them?
The studies do indeed show cell damage from long-term exposure in lab rats, but they are injecting these chemicals directly into the bloodstreams of these animals. ANY chemical would cause cell damage if injected in that volume directly into the bloodstream.
Are you putting your vibrator into your blood? No? Then I think you're fine.
In order to detect these phthlates, just take a whiff. That common "plastic" smell is caused by the added phthlates.
We come into contact with these EVERY DAY, SEVERAL TIMES! It's not like using a vibrator one time will give you cancer.
The studies suggested some places where phthlates show up: Household tupperware, rubbermade containers, shower curtains, some children's toys, laundry baskets, plastic bags, and anywhere else that plastic needs some extra flexibility. Never in any of these studies did they mention the "dangers" of sex toys that include these chemicals.
It might, on the other hand, give you a nice rash if you're allergic to the material, similar to one caused by a latex allergy. If you buy this product without knowing if you're allergic or not, that is not my fault!
The gross thing about these phthlates is that they STINK! Sometimes the smell is so strongly it can give me a headache. The smell ranges from "kind of plastic-y" to "I do believe this was sprayed by a skunk..."
But, after a while, the harmful part of the chemical goes away (go ahead, sniff your shower curtain, I'm sure it's vapors are gone).
Products that contain Phthlates are not "bad," but I tend to recommend something else if a customer has picked out a toy containing the material. If THAT is the toy the customer wants, I usually warn him/her of the possible side effects of using said toy. To avoid any of these, I recommend they be washed a few times with liquid soap (I recommend all-natural dish soap or baby shampoo, as these don't contain additives that will break down the material or leave residue behind), and soaked in HOT soapy water for a few hours to get the initial smell off. After that, use a condom with it until the smell fades away.
In the common occurrence that customers don't even WANT my help, I go ahead and allow them to buy a gross stinky toy that might give them a rash or yeast infection. That's what you get for being too shy to talk to a friendly sales associate to pick out a decent vibrator.
Keep your batteries charged! ~Alice
Saturday, April 24, 2010
What to Watch out for: The CMF
CMF is an acronym for our most loathed type of customer: The Creepy Mother Fucker.
CMFs come in all shapes and sizes.
Anyone (mostly men) can be one.
He can go from normal guy to CMF in a matter of a few regrettable words.
The goal of the CMF is unknown. He is an elusive breed. One that thrives on entering sex shops without any intention to spend any money.
He is sexually stimulated by the mere scent of our Cotton Candy scent diffuser.
Often, he is unaware of his status as a CMF, and sees his behavior as totally acceptable and normal.
He could not be more wrong.
My first knowledge of the CMF came not from personal experience, but co-worker anecdote.
I saw his photo on our "Wall of CMFs," which is dedicated to warning fellow employees of possible returning deviants.
"What's a CMF?" I asked when I saw the letters invading his video-still photo.
"Creepy Mother Fucker," my co-worker replied. "He came in wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and just stood over by the bondage toys staring at me. After a while I noticed something in his pants was moving. Apparently he had cut the pockets from the sweatpants and came in here to jerk off."
I. Was. Shocked.
She said she called the police right away, but he was gone before they got there.
She filed an incident report, and 2 days later his face was plastered on our Wall of Shame.
CMFs tend to be loners. They're usually middle-aged, white, and wearing very casual clothing. Once in a while, though, a well-dressed younger man will prove himself to be a CMF, so don't label anyone until you hear them talk. When they come in the store, they look at everything, but buy nothing.
Often, when he is wearing loose-fitting pants, his erection will be displayed for all to see. Of course, he barely notices it, as he continues to browse our selection of explicit porn titles and male masturbaters.
He may even knock things over with his massive wood, especially things at crotch-level, such as the lubricant.
When this happens, it is our job to inform said CMF of his, *ahem*, troubles.
"Sir, it seems that this store is a bit overwhelming for you at the moment. Why don't you step outside and take a few deep breaths. If you're still feeling excited, it might be best to come back another time."
This all translates to: "Get the eff out of here you pervert!"
Of course, not all CMFs are willing to show their faces in the store.
Many like to harass us via phone.
One example I have is someone who we have coined "The Total CMF," and we have even gone so far as to block his phone number.
The first time he called, I answered.
He informed me that his Master and Mistress forced him to call to say "Thank You" for helping them pick out some movies the other night.
I reluctantly said that I was glad to help and I hope they enjoy them.
He hung up.
He called back a few minutes later to ask about our strap-on harnesses.
Trying not to allow him to get off on this conversation, I informed him of what we have and what the prices are.
Normally, a call like that would end there.
But he had to tell me that his mistress was going to teach him about "dildo worshipping" and pegging (when a woman wears a harness and performs anal sex on a man), all while he was chained to the wall wearing a dog collar.
Not quite knowing how to respond, I told him about the prices of our dildos, as well as our leather collars.
He went on and on and on about how grateful his master and mistress were that I was helping him, and it almost sounded like he was crying.
I called my manager after ending the call and we saved the number to our caller ID.
He continued for about a month to call every so often, usually twice a week.
No matter how rude we were to him, he wouldn't stop.
When we saw his number come up, we would answer "We don't discuss products or prices over the phone" and hang up.
He'd immediately call back to apologize.
Then he'd call to tell us how cute he looked in his little maid's outfit.
Finally, as sternly as I could without laughing, I told him that it was inappropriate to interrupt us while at work to tell us these things, and that if he called again on non-product related issues, we'd file a harassment report.
Then I hung up.
He immediately called back to apologize.
CMFs can also be women.
It's not uncommon for a woman to ask too much of us or offer too much about herself. She'll often treat the toys as if they were potential lovers who cared what she looked and smelled like.
She'll often try on lingerie without buying it, but ask for assistance while trying it on.
She's the type of woman who gets wet from exposing her breasts.
Although rare, she is no less of a threat than the male version.
We have many categories when it comes to labeling customers. CMF is one of many of these such categories, and unfortunately, causes us the most anxiety. Perhaps later I will touch on some other types, such as "Clucking Hens," "Whisperers," "Know-it-alls," and more.
We tend to deal with all of them in their own unique way.
Keep your batteries charged!~Alice
CMFs come in all shapes and sizes.
Anyone (mostly men) can be one.
He can go from normal guy to CMF in a matter of a few regrettable words.
The goal of the CMF is unknown. He is an elusive breed. One that thrives on entering sex shops without any intention to spend any money.
He is sexually stimulated by the mere scent of our Cotton Candy scent diffuser.
Often, he is unaware of his status as a CMF, and sees his behavior as totally acceptable and normal.
He could not be more wrong.
My first knowledge of the CMF came not from personal experience, but co-worker anecdote.
I saw his photo on our "Wall of CMFs," which is dedicated to warning fellow employees of possible returning deviants.
"What's a CMF?" I asked when I saw the letters invading his video-still photo.
"Creepy Mother Fucker," my co-worker replied. "He came in wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and just stood over by the bondage toys staring at me. After a while I noticed something in his pants was moving. Apparently he had cut the pockets from the sweatpants and came in here to jerk off."
I. Was. Shocked.
She said she called the police right away, but he was gone before they got there.
She filed an incident report, and 2 days later his face was plastered on our Wall of Shame.
CMFs tend to be loners. They're usually middle-aged, white, and wearing very casual clothing. Once in a while, though, a well-dressed younger man will prove himself to be a CMF, so don't label anyone until you hear them talk. When they come in the store, they look at everything, but buy nothing.
Often, when he is wearing loose-fitting pants, his erection will be displayed for all to see. Of course, he barely notices it, as he continues to browse our selection of explicit porn titles and male masturbaters.
He may even knock things over with his massive wood, especially things at crotch-level, such as the lubricant.
When this happens, it is our job to inform said CMF of his, *ahem*, troubles.
"Sir, it seems that this store is a bit overwhelming for you at the moment. Why don't you step outside and take a few deep breaths. If you're still feeling excited, it might be best to come back another time."
This all translates to: "Get the eff out of here you pervert!"
Of course, not all CMFs are willing to show their faces in the store.
Many like to harass us via phone.
One example I have is someone who we have coined "The Total CMF," and we have even gone so far as to block his phone number.
The first time he called, I answered.
He informed me that his Master and Mistress forced him to call to say "Thank You" for helping them pick out some movies the other night.
I reluctantly said that I was glad to help and I hope they enjoy them.
He hung up.
He called back a few minutes later to ask about our strap-on harnesses.
Trying not to allow him to get off on this conversation, I informed him of what we have and what the prices are.
Normally, a call like that would end there.
But he had to tell me that his mistress was going to teach him about "dildo worshipping" and pegging (when a woman wears a harness and performs anal sex on a man), all while he was chained to the wall wearing a dog collar.
Not quite knowing how to respond, I told him about the prices of our dildos, as well as our leather collars.
He went on and on and on about how grateful his master and mistress were that I was helping him, and it almost sounded like he was crying.
I called my manager after ending the call and we saved the number to our caller ID.
He continued for about a month to call every so often, usually twice a week.
No matter how rude we were to him, he wouldn't stop.
When we saw his number come up, we would answer "We don't discuss products or prices over the phone" and hang up.
He'd immediately call back to apologize.
Then he'd call to tell us how cute he looked in his little maid's outfit.
Finally, as sternly as I could without laughing, I told him that it was inappropriate to interrupt us while at work to tell us these things, and that if he called again on non-product related issues, we'd file a harassment report.
Then I hung up.
He immediately called back to apologize.
CMFs can also be women.
It's not uncommon for a woman to ask too much of us or offer too much about herself. She'll often treat the toys as if they were potential lovers who cared what she looked and smelled like.
She'll often try on lingerie without buying it, but ask for assistance while trying it on.
She's the type of woman who gets wet from exposing her breasts.
Although rare, she is no less of a threat than the male version.
We have many categories when it comes to labeling customers. CMF is one of many of these such categories, and unfortunately, causes us the most anxiety. Perhaps later I will touch on some other types, such as "Clucking Hens," "Whisperers," "Know-it-alls," and more.
We tend to deal with all of them in their own unique way.
Keep your batteries charged!~Alice
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
First Interesting Customer Encounter
This story goes way back. Back to when I was a freshly hired dildo slinger. I had been working at my store for maybe 2 months or so at this point, and I had it in my head that I could handle anything. Wow. I was so naive.
I was covering the day shift on a Friday. At that point, I had never worked a full day shift before, and didn't quite know what to expect. I had the feeling that day customers differ from night customers, and for the most part I was right (but I was also gravely wrong). The evening shift is usually occupied by middle-aged men who work downtown and stop in after work to get something for their wives. Or porn.
The day can be pretty quiet, as I was finding out on this particular Friday. I had spent most of the day catching up on my latest celebrity gossip when a customer came in.
He was polite and courteous. I asked him if he needed help finding anything, and he said he just needed to browse first.
He asked for one of my previous co-workers, but I had to inform him that she quit suddenly, which is why I was covering the shift. He spent a few minutes talking about her, which was annoying to me because this woman rubbed me the wrong way. Don't get me wrong-she was fabulous. But she had a very sick husband at home whom she was cheating on, with multiple people, most of them customers. People came in all the time asking for her. I wanted to post a sign on the door saying that this was a retail store, not an escort service, but I resisted.
Back to my customer.
It is required of us to stand up when customers are in the store. We are not to sit down, read, text, or anything like that because it's unprofessional, or something. To avoid doing any of this, I usually step out onto the floor, away from behind the counter.
However, this customer was a close-talker. You know, one of those people who assumes you're not listening unless they're invading your personal space. I mean, ultra-close. So close I could smell his breath. So close that I could see his pores. So close that I could see his cells multiplying...
So I went behind the counter.
But that didn't stop him. He leaned so far over the counter to try to talk to me that I thought he was going to fall right smack on his face onto the other side.
With the way he was talking to me, I started to feel that he was not...normal. He seemed normal enough at first. He was tall, wearing a white t-shirt, jeans, and black work boots. To me he looked Native American. He had long black hair and seemed to be in his 40's. He had dirty fingernails and a rip in his jeans. He seemed non-threatening.
Then he started a conversation with me. I remember it distinctly. He was looking at greeting cards, and was explaining his previous night.
A friend whom he hadn't seen in 8 months or so called him up to get together. He was excited and said yes, inviting his friend over. He was looking forward to an evening of talking and bonding, but ended up giving his friend a blow job. His friend left shortly afterward. "Men," he said, "all they want is sex. I'm so sick of it!"
I nodded. "Oh, I know!" I even offered a similar story. "I called an ex-coworker one night to come over and watch South Park with me. He had to work at like 7 the next morning so he said he had to leave early. At 2am I asked him if he needed to go home, and then he told me he was expecting a blow job! Of course I promptly told him to leave."
Bad idea. Now we had something in common. Then he wanted to keep talking about it.
To try to get him to either leave or buy something, I asked him if he had any questions about any products. He walked over to the discount Lingerie section and asked about one of the pieces.
"What size is this?"
It was a 2X, which means it's an XXXL. It fits women with a D-DD cup, usually. With Lingerie, don't pay attention to what size you usually are. The sizing usually goes by cup size, because there isn't any part that is fitted besides in the chest.
...
"Would you like to try it on?" I asked. I wasn't going to pretend he was buying it for some woman with broad shoulders and a small chest. That would be a manly-looking woman.
"Uh, yes please," was his response.
So he took hideous the hot pink satin teddie into the fitting room.
I felt a sense of relief that he wasn't in my face anymore.
But he did still try to talk to me through the door. I pretended not to hear him.
A couple of minutes later I heard the door opening.
I looked up, expecting to see him back in his normal street clothes.
"...Hey, I think this fits me pretty well, the cups just lay flat on my chest..." I heard him say at the door was opening.
Out walks this man. Seemingly normal. Kind of creepy. Who likes to wear women's Lingerie.
He was indeed wearing the hot pink satin teddie.
And nothing else.
but a white man-thong.
I panicked as this bare-assed pseudo-tranny walked excitedly toward me, talking about how it fit him nicely and wasn't too tight in the chest, which is always his problem with women's clothing.
He had a huge goofy smile on his face, as if he was a little kid who got to finally see his favorite animal at the zoo.
I felt my jaw drop to the floor. I felt my face turning bright red. I felt myself stuttering to find words. I quickly slapped my hands on my face to cover my eyes.
When words finally came out, they happened to be "Fuck! Dude! Get back in there and put some fucking pants on! Before someone else comes in!"
He promptly apologized and ran back in to the fitting room, got dressed, and ran out of the store.
I would like to know,
What possesses someone to think that parading around in a retail store in your man-skivvies is acceptable?
What made him think that I even cared?
What did he EXPECT my reaction to be? "Oh, wow, I'm so happy for you that you finally found something that fits you, even though it is hideous! And nice ass, by the way! Saggy man-ass is JUST what I wanted to see today! Thanks for showing it to me! I'm glad you took your pants off, because how else would you know if this TOP fit you correctly?"
At that point, I was stunned.
Did he assume that we had formed some sort of relationship? One where I wanted to help him pick out lingerie?
After I had composed myself, I picked up the piece he tried on so that I could put it back. It reeked. It smelled SO STRONGLY of body odor that no amount of Febreeze would remedy it. I tried to wipe it down with disinfectant, but it was no use. The piece was ruined, and I had to throw it away.
I have learned since then.
Now, when a man tries on Lingerie, it's usually because he wants someone to see him wear it.
I have learned to give a stern speech before allowing someone to do so.
"If you try this on, you must stay in the fitting room. DO NOT come out of here while wearing it. If you need a different size, I will get it for you. When you are done trying it on, I need to inspect it. If I feel that you have damaged it in ANY WAY, you must buy it."
One regular customer has learned to just avoid trying things on while I am in the store, because I won't let him come out of the fitting room and I will make him buy it.
If I'm losing sales, I don't care.
It's not my job to watch you strut your flabby man-ass around in my store.
They have websites for that.
I needed the shock of my first creeper. If it weren't for him, I would never have learned that I work in a sex shop, not Trader Joe's. I have to watch out of weirdos, because anyone could end up being one.
As horrified as I was, it wasn't so bad. If that didn't scare me away, nothing can.
Keep your batteries charged!
~Alice
I was covering the day shift on a Friday. At that point, I had never worked a full day shift before, and didn't quite know what to expect. I had the feeling that day customers differ from night customers, and for the most part I was right (but I was also gravely wrong). The evening shift is usually occupied by middle-aged men who work downtown and stop in after work to get something for their wives. Or porn.
The day can be pretty quiet, as I was finding out on this particular Friday. I had spent most of the day catching up on my latest celebrity gossip when a customer came in.
He was polite and courteous. I asked him if he needed help finding anything, and he said he just needed to browse first.
He asked for one of my previous co-workers, but I had to inform him that she quit suddenly, which is why I was covering the shift. He spent a few minutes talking about her, which was annoying to me because this woman rubbed me the wrong way. Don't get me wrong-she was fabulous. But she had a very sick husband at home whom she was cheating on, with multiple people, most of them customers. People came in all the time asking for her. I wanted to post a sign on the door saying that this was a retail store, not an escort service, but I resisted.
Back to my customer.
It is required of us to stand up when customers are in the store. We are not to sit down, read, text, or anything like that because it's unprofessional, or something. To avoid doing any of this, I usually step out onto the floor, away from behind the counter.
However, this customer was a close-talker. You know, one of those people who assumes you're not listening unless they're invading your personal space. I mean, ultra-close. So close I could smell his breath. So close that I could see his pores. So close that I could see his cells multiplying...
So I went behind the counter.
But that didn't stop him. He leaned so far over the counter to try to talk to me that I thought he was going to fall right smack on his face onto the other side.
With the way he was talking to me, I started to feel that he was not...normal. He seemed normal enough at first. He was tall, wearing a white t-shirt, jeans, and black work boots. To me he looked Native American. He had long black hair and seemed to be in his 40's. He had dirty fingernails and a rip in his jeans. He seemed non-threatening.
Then he started a conversation with me. I remember it distinctly. He was looking at greeting cards, and was explaining his previous night.
A friend whom he hadn't seen in 8 months or so called him up to get together. He was excited and said yes, inviting his friend over. He was looking forward to an evening of talking and bonding, but ended up giving his friend a blow job. His friend left shortly afterward. "Men," he said, "all they want is sex. I'm so sick of it!"
I nodded. "Oh, I know!" I even offered a similar story. "I called an ex-coworker one night to come over and watch South Park with me. He had to work at like 7 the next morning so he said he had to leave early. At 2am I asked him if he needed to go home, and then he told me he was expecting a blow job! Of course I promptly told him to leave."
Bad idea. Now we had something in common. Then he wanted to keep talking about it.
To try to get him to either leave or buy something, I asked him if he had any questions about any products. He walked over to the discount Lingerie section and asked about one of the pieces.
"What size is this?"
It was a 2X, which means it's an XXXL. It fits women with a D-DD cup, usually. With Lingerie, don't pay attention to what size you usually are. The sizing usually goes by cup size, because there isn't any part that is fitted besides in the chest.
...
"Would you like to try it on?" I asked. I wasn't going to pretend he was buying it for some woman with broad shoulders and a small chest. That would be a manly-looking woman.
"Uh, yes please," was his response.
So he took hideous the hot pink satin teddie into the fitting room.
I felt a sense of relief that he wasn't in my face anymore.
But he did still try to talk to me through the door. I pretended not to hear him.
A couple of minutes later I heard the door opening.
I looked up, expecting to see him back in his normal street clothes.
"...Hey, I think this fits me pretty well, the cups just lay flat on my chest..." I heard him say at the door was opening.
Out walks this man. Seemingly normal. Kind of creepy. Who likes to wear women's Lingerie.
He was indeed wearing the hot pink satin teddie.
And nothing else.
but a white man-thong.
I panicked as this bare-assed pseudo-tranny walked excitedly toward me, talking about how it fit him nicely and wasn't too tight in the chest, which is always his problem with women's clothing.
He had a huge goofy smile on his face, as if he was a little kid who got to finally see his favorite animal at the zoo.
I felt my jaw drop to the floor. I felt my face turning bright red. I felt myself stuttering to find words. I quickly slapped my hands on my face to cover my eyes.
When words finally came out, they happened to be "Fuck! Dude! Get back in there and put some fucking pants on! Before someone else comes in!"
He promptly apologized and ran back in to the fitting room, got dressed, and ran out of the store.
I would like to know,
What possesses someone to think that parading around in a retail store in your man-skivvies is acceptable?
What made him think that I even cared?
What did he EXPECT my reaction to be? "Oh, wow, I'm so happy for you that you finally found something that fits you, even though it is hideous! And nice ass, by the way! Saggy man-ass is JUST what I wanted to see today! Thanks for showing it to me! I'm glad you took your pants off, because how else would you know if this TOP fit you correctly?"
At that point, I was stunned.
Did he assume that we had formed some sort of relationship? One where I wanted to help him pick out lingerie?
After I had composed myself, I picked up the piece he tried on so that I could put it back. It reeked. It smelled SO STRONGLY of body odor that no amount of Febreeze would remedy it. I tried to wipe it down with disinfectant, but it was no use. The piece was ruined, and I had to throw it away.
I have learned since then.
Now, when a man tries on Lingerie, it's usually because he wants someone to see him wear it.
I have learned to give a stern speech before allowing someone to do so.
"If you try this on, you must stay in the fitting room. DO NOT come out of here while wearing it. If you need a different size, I will get it for you. When you are done trying it on, I need to inspect it. If I feel that you have damaged it in ANY WAY, you must buy it."
One regular customer has learned to just avoid trying things on while I am in the store, because I won't let him come out of the fitting room and I will make him buy it.
If I'm losing sales, I don't care.
It's not my job to watch you strut your flabby man-ass around in my store.
They have websites for that.
I needed the shock of my first creeper. If it weren't for him, I would never have learned that I work in a sex shop, not Trader Joe's. I have to watch out of weirdos, because anyone could end up being one.
As horrified as I was, it wasn't so bad. If that didn't scare me away, nothing can.
Keep your batteries charged!
~Alice
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Quick 420 Update before I fall asleep on my keyboard
I guess everyone was out celebrating 420 tonight because all night I had a total of 6 customers. Seems no one wanted to watch porn because they were all too baked.
Tonight I totaled 200 bucks. When the typical weekday earns around 900-1500 bucks, this is very disappointing.
HOWEVER:
One of my regulars from the homeless shelter down the street came in and he actually behaved himself! This is probably because last time he was in, I told him to be quiet. He's one of those people that must have no inner monologue, because whenever he comes in I know EXACTLY what he's thinking. "Oh, yeah, girls kissing. Ooh, baby. Hot. That's HOT! Mmm, yeah. *grunt* Yeah baby...you like that."
When he talks to me he folds his hands and bows, answering me very politely, as if we were in Japan. The thing is, he's a 6'5" black man. He usually buys Anime porn, but today it was Latina. Mixing it up is a good thing.
AND thanks to my friend Jon buying for his wife, I actually had numbers to report. Had my totals been less than 100 bucks, I wouldn't have even called them in...
Keep your batteries charged!
~Alice
Tonight I totaled 200 bucks. When the typical weekday earns around 900-1500 bucks, this is very disappointing.
HOWEVER:
One of my regulars from the homeless shelter down the street came in and he actually behaved himself! This is probably because last time he was in, I told him to be quiet. He's one of those people that must have no inner monologue, because whenever he comes in I know EXACTLY what he's thinking. "Oh, yeah, girls kissing. Ooh, baby. Hot. That's HOT! Mmm, yeah. *grunt* Yeah baby...you like that."
When he talks to me he folds his hands and bows, answering me very politely, as if we were in Japan. The thing is, he's a 6'5" black man. He usually buys Anime porn, but today it was Latina. Mixing it up is a good thing.
AND thanks to my friend Jon buying for his wife, I actually had numbers to report. Had my totals been less than 100 bucks, I wouldn't have even called them in...
Keep your batteries charged!
~Alice
Monday, April 19, 2010
New Pages Up!
It's not much, but I've started creating the "you'll piss me off if..." page. Good read, and pretty informative! Also good for a laugh!
Keep your batteries charged!
~Alice
Keep your batteries charged!
~Alice
My blog cherry has been popped!
This is my first attempt at a blog. It's about my place of employment, which happens to be an adult novelty store. We sell everything from Bachelorette party favors to Lingerie (Men's and Women's) to books to games to millions of toys, enough lube to keep Niagra Falls from drying up, dildos, vibrators, anal toys, male masturbators, and DVDs. The only thing NOT for sale...is me. I keep a rather professional demeanor, but if you misbehave, the claws will come out. For the most part I sit and read, help customers who welcome it, chat with people who have too much time on their hands, offer advice, suggestions, and a little bit of personal knowledge, and clean. It's overall simple and enjoyable. I'm knowledgeable, approachable, friendly, and willing to help if you'll let me.
My goal for this blog is to offer some inside knowledge of the hilarious drama that is my job, and to let the general blog-reading public that some of these stores aren't scary! The employees know a thing or two about getting it on, me included.
At the moment, only a few of the pages above are up and running. I believe "Freudian slips," "Simple rules," and "dvd titles" are the pages that are working.
More soon!
My goal for this blog is to offer some inside knowledge of the hilarious drama that is my job, and to let the general blog-reading public that some of these stores aren't scary! The employees know a thing or two about getting it on, me included.
At the moment, only a few of the pages above are up and running. I believe "Freudian slips," "Simple rules," and "dvd titles" are the pages that are working.
More soon!
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