I receive a call from a customer. I manage an adult toy store, so I will leave it to your imagination what he’s calling about. I pride myself in helping people find what’s right for them, so this call goes on longer than I should have tolerated.

Customer: “Hi. I bought an item from you yesterday and it’s just horrible; it doesn’t work at all.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. We have a guarantee on our electronics as these things do happen sometimes, so bring it on in with the receipt and I can exchange it for you.”

Customer: “No, no, it’s not electronic.”

Me: “Oh. What item is it, and how is it defective?”

Customer: “It’s an [item], and it is just absolutely horrible quality. It serves no purpose. It’s just absolute garbage. I want to return it.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, but if it’s not defective, I can’t exchange it for you.”

Customer: “Of course, it’s defective! It doesn’t work at all! I spent 40€ on this for nothing. I’m a customer; you have to do something for me.”

Me: “I’m trying to help you, but you need to describe what’s wrong as it doesn’t sound defective to me. Is it too tight or too loose?”

Customer: “It’s not too loose; it’s just horrible. You need to exchange it for me.”

Me: “There’s a difference between something being defective and something not pleasing you. I can’t return something just because you don’t like it.”

Customer: “It’s more than it not pleasing me. There’s something wrong with it. There’s no way anyone can use this.”

Me: “I’ve been selling this item for a while now; plus, everything we order has reliable reviews online. The item presents as described on the box. I can’t get a refund from the manufacturer because it’s not defective.”

Customer: “So, if I cut the tip off and come in saying it’s defective, I can exchange it is what you’re saying.”

Me: “Absolutely not!” 

Customer: “So, what can you do for me? You owe me; I’m the customer here. You need to take a loss and let me have something else. Something better quality. This thing just slips off when I try to use it; this is—”

Me: “Ah, so it is a matter of size, as I suggested. If you’re not big enough, I suggest you go to your doctor about that. I think we’re done here. Have a good day.”

I work in an adult store. The stories I could tell just from my year here could fill a book, particularly because I work in a rather “methy” small town in Canada. I also work late shifts most nights so, it gets interesting.

I’m incredibly upbeat and cheery; that’s just naturally how I am and it works great to deescalate situations. So, imagine me genuinely smiling and being helpful through all this.

One night, I have two fine glossy-eyed specimens enter my store. They set off a few retail red flags immediately, so I keep an eye out but offer my assistance and don’t bother them while they look around. Everything in my store is under a magnet lock so I have to come over and unlock whatever product they want off the hook. They ask me to come and grab a few items off the wall and put them behind the counter while they continue to browse.

As I head back to the counter, I hear a tell-tale cardboard rip noise and see that the lady has ripped a box of lingerie off the hook and is examining it — while swaying drunkenly, mind you. I walk over.

Me: *Gently* “Can I have that, please? That way I can tape the box back up, since the box is all mangled.”

As I’m turning around to do this, she rips off another one.

I turn back around.

Me: *Calmly* “Hey, could you just be careful not to rip the merchandise off? I can grab anything if you want to look at it.”

Woman: *Slurring* “I’m sorry! I was just trying to see the back.”

Me: “It’s not an issue.”

It’s probably just heavy, drunk hands. So, I take both items back behind the counter to fix.

As I do this, the drunk husband walks up to the counter and raises his voice at me as his wife continues to look around.

Husband: “We’re not spending any more f****** money here. We would, but we don’t want to buy anything else from you.”

Me: “Because I asked her very nicely to be careful with the products?”

Husband: “IT’S NOT LIKE SHE DID IT ON PURPOSE! I’m coming back tomorrow to speak to your boss!”

Me: “Okay, for sure, feel free! I’m just doing my job, making sure stuff doesn’t get damaged. Anything else I can help you with?”

My boss will honestly probably tell the guy to f*** off.

Husband: “NO. We’re leaving.”

The woman is looking intently at the wall of vibrators.

Woman: “Wait, hold on. I like this one.”

Husband: “Babe, let’s go. We’re f****** leaving. Now.”

Woman: “Wait!”

Husband: *Practically screaming* “NO! NOW!”

Me: “Can I help you choose from any of those?”

Husband: “I SAID WE’RE F****** GOING NOW!”

Woman: “One more minute. Does this one recharge?”

Me: *With a smile* “No, not that one! But I do have this one over here that’s 40% off and is rechargeable.”

Woman: “It comes in pink?”

Me: “Yup, right here!”

Woman: “And it’s waterproof?”

Me: “Absolutely!”

Woman: “Yeah, I’ll take that!”

The husband stood with his arms crossed and brows furrowed while I grabbed the products for them, and then he had to fork over $350 for all the stuff they grabbed. I happily bagged it all and asked all the basic questions, followed up by my best wishes for a lovely evening. And I smiled because he didn’t say another word, and I make commission.

My boss messaged me later to let me know that if the dude calls and tries to complain, he’ll be asked kindly not to shop at our stores anymore. My boss doesn’t put up with abuse of his staff and that’s why I love him.

Oh, and I took down the guy’s license plate and gave 911 a little tip that there was a possible drunk guy in a big truck who had just left the shop.

My girlfriend and I have been dating for a while, and since she has never been to an adult store, I decide to take her. When we are in the parking lot, I tell her to get her license ready and she says she doesn’t have it. I suggest that we go back for it since it isn’t too far, or that we could try to go in anyway and see if we get carded. I’m a few years older and haven’t been getting carded anywhere lately. We decide to see if we will get carded and walk in.

Employee: “Hi, welcome to [Adult Store]. I just need to see your driver’s licenses, please.”

I show her mine.

Girlfriend: “I forgot mine at home.”

Employee: “I’m sorry, but I need to see ID.”

I start to turn around, but my girlfriend starts to argue with the employee.

Girlfriend: “I’m twenty years old.”

Employee: “I’m sorry. I still can’t let you in without ID.”

Girlfriend: *Gestures at me* “But she’s twenty-seven. Can’t she be my legal guardian or something?”

Employee: “I need to see both of your ID’s.”

Me: “Come on. Let’s go back for your license; it’s not that far.”

My girlfriend starts to get really snotty.

Girlfriend: “I’m twenty. I’m in college. I go to John Carroll. Do you know where John Carroll is?”

Employee: “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in without your license.”

Girlfriend: “I go to John Carroll.”

Me: “Honey, they have to check. She could probably lose her job if she doesn’t check—”

Girlfriend: “Yeah, whatever. We weren’t going to buy anything, anyway.”

My girlfriend stormed out. I followed her, calling, “Sorry!” over my shoulder. I was so incredibly embarrassed! We later broke up over her immature behavior.

(I work at an adult store. It’s pretty quiet and I spend most of my time watching YouTube videos or surfing the Internet. I just had a customer walk in and after 30 minutes of her walking around she finally comes up to talk to me.)

Me: “Hi. How may I help you?”

Woman: “I’m confused. What do you do with all these toys?”

Me: “Anything really. But mostly you just find a hole and stick it in.”

Woman: “What about this?” *holds up a battery-operated toy*

Me: “Find a hole and stick it in.”

Woman: “And this one?” *battery-less toy* 

Me: “Find a hole and stick it in; you may start to see a pattern here.”

(I work at an adult store which only allows people 18 years or older to enter. This does not stop parents from trying to bring their kids in with them. I see a woman trying to push a stroller into my store.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m afraid we don’t allow anyone under 18 in this store.”

Woman: “Oh! I know; I’m actually 36. I just look young.”

Me: “I was talking about the baby.”

Woman: *suddenly furious* “What?! This is my kid; I give her permission to be in here.”

Me: “It doesn’t work like that. If she’s not 18 she can’t come in.”

Woman: “Why not?! She doesn’t know what any of this is, anyway!”

Me: “Doesn’t matter. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Woman: “This is unfair! I am a paying customer; you can’t treat me like this. I’ll have you arrested!”

Me: *now annoyed* “Do it.”

Woman: “Wh-what?”

Me: “I dare you. Call the cops right now. Actually, I’ll do it for you. Then you can explain to the police why you were trying to bring a minor into an adult store. So, then, when you try to explain that it’s your own child, you can then explain to Child Protective Services why you feel it’s okay to expose your child to adult-themed objects at an infant’s age.”

Woman: “That’s not what I’m doing at all! I just want to buy some stuff for myself.”

Me: “No, I’m refusing you service. Please leave my store. You can also tell your sob story to the cop that’s standing just outside the door, who watched this whole exchange.”