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