You Say Rubber, I Say Shoo!

When I was working part-time at a chain pharmacy in the 1990s and 2000s, there seemed to be a wave of teenage boys with very toxic masculine traits. I don’t know where they all came from, but I recall one.

Customer: “Where are all y’all’s condoms?! I need like, a hundred!”

Me: “They’re all on display there, near where you came in.”

Customer: “I need like, the largest y’all got. I be f*****’ my b****es all night, every night! They’re always satisfied.”

Me: “Like I said, they’re all there. You don’t need me to help you find them or pick the ones you need.”

Customer: “Don’t be all like that, baby girl. You can get some, too, if you know how to treat me right.”

My manager came charging around the corner. He was a huge tank of a man, and he was very protective over us.

Manager: “Okay, you! Shoo! Out! Stop harassing my girls!”

I know we’re women, not girls, but he meant it endearingly, and it was a different time back then. My manager shooed the obnoxious kid out of the store and checked on me.

Me: “Oh, I’m fine. I was enduring him just to make sure he could get his d*** condoms. I don’t want him breeding.”

Manager: “Oh, don’t worry about that. No contraceptive he can buy will be as potent as his personality.”

Over twenty years later, he’s still the best manager I ever had!