How did I end up working at a porn shop? Desperation I guess. Low on money. Maybe I was interested in checking out the dingier, creepier areas of life. And I do love porn. My computer's full of it and I still have boxes of old porn magazines dating back decades stacked up in a closet at home.
So I guess I did have a personal interest after all. And the pay wasn't bad. Crotchley, the fat old bastard who ran the place was tired of the parade of losers, loafers and larcenists who seemed to make up his staff in the past. When he saw in my resume that I was once a debt collector, he hired me on the spot and said if I promised to stay a year he'd pay me thirteen bucks an hour. Normally, he'd pay three dollars an hour less, but since I seemed like an honest guy and not likely to be taking from the till like my predecessors, he was willing to pay extra for a "quality hire." He really called me that, too.
Naturally, I took the job. Twelve bucks an hour wasn't exactly a king's ransom, especially at my age of forty-two, but after my years of working in dead end call centre jobs, I couldn't really be too demanding. It was better than nothing at all, and working in a porn shop seemed like more fun than yet another market research survey gig or a telemarketing job.
The job wasn't too demanding. I worked the full hours the store was open, from nine in the morning until eleven at night, Monday to Saturday. Don't get me wrong. The hours sounded long, but believe me, this turned out to be a sweet gig. Nobody showed up for at least three hours after opening, and even then, it was mostly uptight business types browsing and not buying.
Then the parade of dirty old men started in the afternoon, and they bought and rented DVDs like crazy and always walked away with armfuls of back dated plastic-wrapped porn magazines. These were the guys who kept the place running and in an odd way, many of them were friendly.
They seemed like they were lonely and looking for someone to talk to - in many cases to talk at, if you know what I mean - so I listened while they prattled away about how much they loved current busty porn mega queen Rita Heat's big tits or how they wanted to see more gonzo movies. I loved the one guy who always said porn was going down hill and he wished the golden age of pinup would return, but who always left the store with bondage and forced sex compilation discs. Odd fellow that one.
Whenever Crotchley came by, he expected me to help him with inventory. After that was done, he would sit in the back, illegally puffing on a cigar - city ordinance banned smoking in stores but he claimed to have reached an "understanding" with city inspectors about this - while he worked on the computer. He said he was doing accounting, but judging from the moans and groans issuing from behind his closed office door, I knew he was surfing for Web porn and maybe having a little fun himself, if you know what I mean.
There was always a big rush in the early evening. This was when the younger guys came back from work, looking for some amusement for the night. Sometimes, they brought their wives or girlfriends with them, and this was always fun. Some of the ladies were shy and nervous, others were really into porn and knew more about it than their men.
Saturday was given over to the college guys who could be a pain sometimes, but at least they rented a lot of stuff, so I guess I they were okay. Then came Sunday, the best day of all, my day off.
Most of the time, I just processed rentals and sold magazines and DVDs, maybe the odd vibrator or dildo or rubber vagina from the sex toy display case. The inventory stuff was pretty straightforward and I soon learned that Crotchley really wanted to look after most of that himself anyway.
So by and large, things went smooth.
Did I mention the two private video viewing booths? I guess I didn't. Probably because that was the one drawback to working there. Pretty serious one too.
Near the back of the store were two private viewing stations where guys could go in and watch a porn DVD in privacy for thirty minutes. It cost a few bucks and it was little bit of a money maker and gave guys the chance to preview a movie before buying or renting.
There used to be more of these booths but Crotchley got rid of all but two of them because of vandalism and guys leaving behind...messes. You know what guys do when they watch porn and well they did it in those booths and it was just...well, let's say a nuisance to clean up after guys sometimes.
So that was my job too, keeping those last two booths clean and in good working order. Fun wow! But the other parts of the job made up for that.
Oh, and the security cameras! Can't forget those!
Crotchley had invested heavily in security. He didn't want his store robbed and he actually feared some of the guys who came in. He told me to trust no one, not even the old guys, no matter how harmless they seemed to be.
So the whole shop floor, and the back and the front steps leading up to the store - yeah, I didn't mention, the place was on the second floor, the ground floor was occupied by some awful looking convenience store I was afraid to enter - were covered by closed circuit cameras. There was another camera mounted on the roof of the building which kept a view of the whole block.
The owner had monitors for these cameras in his office and there was a second set of monitors under the front counter, out of view of the customers. When the place was empty early in the day, and if Crotchley wasn't around, I used to have fun messing around with the control board for the cameras.
I soon came to love the rooftop camera that viewed the whole neighborhood. Across the street was a bank and as you would expect, some very good looking, well dressed ladies worked there. One of my pleasures soon became checking out the beautiful women bank workers. The camera could see over the roof of the bank and into the courtyard in the back where there were picnic tables where the staff lunched.
One woman in particular caught my eye.
She was a blonde, maybe around forty, who was very tall, about five nine. She had killer legs which she loved showing off with her tiny postage stamp sized miniskirts. She also had a taste for low cut blouses that displayed her deep cleavage.
She usually had her lunch by herself and for the first months of my stay at the Porn Stop - that's what the place was called - watching her occupied a lot of my spare time in those quiet mornings. Luckily, she took lunch early and at that time of day, Crotchley was usually gone and not too many customers were around, so I always got a good look at her on the monitor.
So, I lusted after her, watching her eat as she perched with sexily crossed legs at her favorite picnic table, knowing that she couldn't see me staring from afar with the camera.
Then, one day, something unusual happened.
Normally, I would see the blonde at her appointed time eating at the picnic table out back, but this day I saw her leaving the bank through the front entrance and heading up the sidewalk. She disappeared into a restaurant a few doors up. Not a great place, I ate there once. Okay, it wasn't the best but at least the place was clean.
So she was eating out. Funny expression, considering I wouldn't have at all minded eating out this sexy blonde stunner.
