(I work in an adult store that’s in the same building as a topless club. I answer the phone for both businesses.)
Caller: “How much is it to take one of the girls home?”
Me: “You can’t do that.”
Caller: “I’m sure some of them do that. Can’t you just ask them?”
Me: “No. You. Can. Not. Do. That.”
Caller: “Oh, come on. I’m sure that’s going on.”
Me: *click*
(I work in an adult store that’s in the same building as a topless club. I answer their phone as well as ours, but most people call with questions about the club.)
Caller: “How’s it looking down there?”
(We get this question a lot, and I honestly don’t know if they would prefer it be packed or empty, so I usually respond the same way.)
Me: “I don’t know. I answer the phone in the adult store next door.”
Caller: “Oh, really? What’s your favorite thing in the adult store?
Me: *rolling my eyes* “I don’t have a favorite.”
Caller: “Oh, come on!”
Me: *looking around quickly* “My [Coffee Maker]. Does that work for you? My [Coffee Maker] is my favorite thing here.”
Caller: “Well, that’s no fun.”
Me: “It is for me. I really like coffee.” *click*
(I work in an adult store, but I answer the phone both for us and for the topless club next door. Most people call with questions about the topless club.)
Caller: “What are the qualifications to work there?”
Me: “You have to be 18.”
Caller: “Oh, okay. That’s it?”
Me: “Yep. You’d have to fill out an application and talk to a manager.”
Caller: “Oh, okay. Well, I’m real pretty.”
Me: “Okay.”
Caller: “I mean, I’m a little thick, but some guys like that.”
Me: “Uh-huh.”
Caller: “And I have a few burn scars. See, I grew up in the ghetto. Let me just start from when I was born—”
Me: *click*
(A woman comes to the front desk with an adult toy.)
Customer: “Can I try this out before I buy it?”
(I am the assistant manager for a very well known, nationwide novelty shop that also sells some adult intimate products. An older gentleman walks in, in his 60’s, and comes up to me. He looks like your average, blue-collar grandfather, in denim pants and a jacket, along with a plaid men’s work shirt.)
Guest: “Do you have a paddle?”
Me: “Well, not exactly. We have flails and crops. But the only paddle I have is thin, flimsy wood, and is meant as an over-the-hill birthday spanking gag gift. It’s not really sturdy enough for anything hard.”
Guest: “Well, I’d like to see it anyway.”
(I lead him to the item and show it to him. He smacks it against his hand several times to test it.)
Guest: “Well, I don’t know now, I like a good hard spank.”
(I didn’t need to know this. As he continues to test it, I pick up a set of purple suspenders with fake plastic breasts that was on the floor, and hang them up. He interrupts himself and points to the suspenders.)
Guest: “Now, are those just for women, or can a man wear them too?”
(This startles me slightly, but at this point in my job, not much shocks me anymore.)
Me: “Well, yeah, they are just an old age gag gift, too, but they are standard suspenders so they should be adjustable to fit a man.”
(His reply is 100% serious.)
Guest: “Oh, well that might be an idea then. I’m getting tired of stuffing my braziers.”
(I really didn’t need to know that. My professionalism takes over and he doesn’t get to see what I am really thinking, as I try not to laugh.)
Me: “Well, yeah, that should work for you. But as for this paddle, it is all we have. I suggest you go to [Nearby Adult Shop]. I am sure they are going to have what exactly you need.”
Guest: “Oh, well, all right. But I do like a good hard spank. If I can’t find one there, I will come back for this in a few weeks. I don’t really have a place to hide it you see, and my mistress is out of town for a few weeks. My wife would find it.”
(I certainly didn’t need to know that! Enter Extreme Professional Mode!)
Me: “All right, well, yes, [Other Shop] should absolutely have exactly what you need!
Guest: “All right, thank you!”
(As he walked out of my store, and I watched him go, thinking of all his surprising revelations to a complete stranger, I watched him reach behind himself, and lift his shirt slightly so that he might hike up his pants. In the process, I saw that he was wearing florescent pink, extremely frilly, women’s underwear. Needless to say, I went straight to the back-room and hit the floor laughing.)
