Rated Я Us

I work in an adult store. Like most stores of our type, we have a double-door entry so that you can’t see anything from the street, but we also split the store in two, with our tamer stuff at the front, and the more explicit stuff in the back room.

I’m tidying a display near the counter when the door bursts open. A little girl rushes in, beaming.

I freeze, about to intervene, when her mom comes sprinting in after her, face red.

Mom: “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! She saw the word ‘toys’ on the sign outside and thought… well, Barbies.”

The little girl looks around, confused.

Girl: “These aren’t Barbies.”

Mom: *Already ushering her out the door.* “Nope, nope, nope, not Barbies, sweetie! Just… grown-up Legos. Let’s go!”

As the door swings shut, my coworker is laughing:

Coworker: “Imagine explaining why Barbie doesn’t need Ken anymore.”