When I was quite a bit younger I was driving through my hometown with some friends and we were discussing the fact that I was looking at getting a second job due to struggling to make ends meet. As we drove by a seedy and shabby adult sexual paraphernalia store and noticed it's sign stating they were looking for help I joked I could work there. The hours would be great and it would be so educational! Well, if you knew me then, and knew my friends it is no stretch of the imagination to see the following conversation that led them to daring me to do so. I did so. I got the job. I got fired.
It is the only job I have ever been fired from. I worked there for just over two weeks. I can honestly say it was probably two weeks too long for both myself, the owner, and the poor customers. We were not a good fit and considering it was a dare to start with and I never planned on using this little career window on my resume there were no hard feelings when I was told to go and not come back. In fact he paid me from the cash register so he wouldn't even have to mail me a check.
Now, let me describe what kind of shop I was in. Because most people that are familiar with these establishments will recognize this description. It was a small building with wood and paper placed over the windows so people wouldn't stumble by and see something unmentionable. Inside was dark, close, and... dirty doesn't cover it. You felt as though you shouldn't touch anything because you might catch herpes. There were inflatable toys hung from the ceiling with impossible appendages attached and wind up puss's and cocks on the counter that when wound would leap across the counter at you like they were either going to eat you or brain you. This, has been my experience with most of these shops. It wasn't until I was getting ready to leave Alaska that they opened a "Castle" store that was quite nice. Clean, well lit, and lacking the little video rooms in the back where you could pop in some quarters to enjoy some old porn on a wall inset mounted tv. These rooms were connected by a waist high hole that should you be truly lonely you could "share your experience" with the person in the room next door without ever having to look at their face or introduce oneself. And let us not forget the checkout stand by the door that is raised a good two feet so that the cashier looms over the person who is struggling not to make eye contact with anyone like some sort of judge.
What could get me fired from such a place you would ask? Curiosity and a lack of knowing the rules to work there. Curiosity you ask? Yes. I didn't know what most of these things were for and I figure the best people to ask were the ones buying them. Does that lubricant really taste like grape, and why would I want that part of my anatomy to taste fruity anyway? I was and am of the mindset that if you need to cover up the taste of that then it probably shouldn't be coming in contact with your taste buds, no? And the woman who purchased the pussy mop? Oh, she complained when I asked her what that could possibly be used for. I've seen babies born and nothing that large should be willingly placed in those orfices. I did not state this to her, in fact I thought I was quite polite in how I asked her where she could possibly be placing that silicone medusa's head. Nevertheless, I do know that her complaint was the final straw for poor Mr Baler who informed me that banging on the door of the little video room to evict the toothless old coot who had been in there for hours not paying so that the next person could enjoy whatever they thought was inside that room.
And the rules of working at such a place? Mainly, you do not speak more than absolutely necessary and make no eye contact. Well, unless you were looming over the customer at check out wanting them to think you were about to unleash the power of an angry and embarrassed God on such a sinner. I never took kindly to the Catholic church when I was a kid so I didn't do that to well. Instead, I smiled, I chatted, I took people to where the items they were looking for. I interrupted the toothless old coot so someone else could use that room. I made lots of eye contact and asked lots of questions.
What makes me speak of this you ask? Knit night. That's right, porn stores came up at knit night. I swear, everyone should go to a knit night occasionally just to see what Grandma is really getting up to. Anyway, when these stores came up someone mentioned the aroma of such establishments. And, they're right, there is a particular odor. It's a mixture of bad ventilation, latex, silicone and other man made materials with an under tone of what those stains on the wall in the tv room are comprised of. I looked to the person who mentioned the smell the other night and stated it was "The aroma of loneliness and despair".
Now, that sounds a little harsh, but I can honestly say, the people that use those little rooms, much less the hole connecting the two rooms. They are lonely. And they are most definitely desparate. They weren't doing it for the sexual adventure. They were doing it because they thought it was their only outlet.
Today I was in an online forum that I had previously left and for whatever reason, let myself get talked back into joining. Someone was looking for some advice on leaving a relationship that had been kind of side tracked by dildo's. Don't ask, it's much like a knit night with less niceties. I made a posting, trying for one to show some support for this person who is obviously feeling a bit lost, and two, to be a bit funny and maybe give her a smile. Well, once again, one of the reasons I originally left this online group piped up and took everything I said out of context and made it abundantly clear I was not welcome.
And I fumed. In fact, I was pissed. I was halfway through typing up a response and had been in the act of questioning why she hated me so and why my response mattered that much when it hit me. None of this shit mattered. Not one bit. So I deleted what I had composed and decided to tie up my remaining feelings here on my blog before I go to bed because I don't think it is any more fair to take that particular forum post further away from the topic of the poor girl who started it than it has been already.
So, if you read this sweety, I want you to know that once this is written, you don't matter a pigs fart to me. Why you may wonder? Because you don't know me. You don't know this back story or how I view things or that nothing is sacred to me and I have little shame in admitting to stupid things I have done in my life to get my humor or where I'm coming from half the time. To assume you do is amazingly ignorant and it's obvious by the bullshit you read into everything I write that you are to busy harping on your own agenda to stop and see anything from someone else's perspective. You seem to feel that when I write something I am looking to purposely piss you off. I'm not. It is as simple as that. I don't know you, I don't pretend to know you and I will never know you. You see, we live in this amazing country where I'm allowed to have my own opinions, views, and have a freedom of speech that allows me to state these. As do you, but the difference between us is that I don't think that everything you write in a forum that supposedly prides itself it's all encompassing crassness is a true reflection of who you are or by any means even reflect your true feelings. Especially when a forum is full of sarcastic comments about people, their dildos, how they smell and if they are currently sniffing them to see if they smell of shower curtains. I also realize that I, if you allow yourself to admit it, mean not a flying rats ass to you.
With all this said, I was writing this response on this other site, it dawned on me that all of this irritation is over wasting my time on a knitting site when I could in fact be doing what this site was built for. Knitting. Or pretty much anything more productive such as walking the dogs, mowing the lawn, or making tomorrow's Mother's Day parties potato salad. Which is exactly what I did while I mulled over what I should do about this little issue. So, with that said, when I signed on to the computer to write this blog entry and clear my head up before bed I un-joined this group and will not be rejoining again. I may still peruse their discussions occasionally but membership is not worth the irritation it seems to cause me. I will probably just enjoy the wit and humor in such discussions and not join in there and simply use this website as the knit project and stash tracker it was originally started to be. And what to do with all that spare time? I can think of many many things, but most importantly, talk face to face with friends that do know me, that do matter and feel that I matter. To interact with those that do get me and my sense of humor and aren't to busy riding their own high horse to participate in a real conversation and not just lecture me. Because I would rather know people who recognize the aroma of loneliness and despair and not mistake it for a bunch of people who are "eager, excited people who enjoy sex and want to have lots of it in various interesting ways". Those people are elsewhere actually having sex, lot's of it in various and interesting ways. And I don't think you fall into that category, because your to busy stalking people in the forums and trying to make them feel poorly about themselves.
So, goodnight everyone. And remember, clean you sex toys as their instructions state or your house will possibly begin to start to have that aroma... you know that of which I speak. And I hope that all those people that I know that have those kind of toys/tools/personal electronic devices are happier since, well you know why. You have such things and know how to use them.