Entry number one; perpetually attempting to meet or exceed expectations; potential for failure: high

so, here it is. to tell you the truth, i never really thought i'd be making/maintaining one of these. a blog. so dumb, everyone and their brother has one. so, what caused me to conform to this globally accepted tear-rag?

as you may or may not know, i recently found employment at a porn shop out in the sticks. i mean the sticks. i'm talkin' like, you can hear coyotes and cicadas and shit out here. i also mean that men howl like coyotes when they're sexin' down other dudes in the booth, or vice versa.

this blog was founded under three principals:

• people NEED to know how hilariously awesome it is to sell people pocket pussies with a straight face.
• riding a bike to work is like, pretty fun.
• listening to "hot tunezzz" whilst riding a bike to work is like, pretty funner.

the fibre of this blog hung in a cloud of uncertainty until just a day or so ago. i started it with the intent of bringing awesome stories to light. i was certain that each shift would be laden with proverbial comedy gold. however, what if it was just wishful thinking? what if folks that congregated at porn stores weren't as oogy as imagined? what if stereotypes had failed yet again?

i assure you that the ooginess is very much alive in east portland, and available in concentrated doses at my humble shoppe.

allow me to start this potentially lurid blog out with an interesting morsel: my commute in total is over ten miles, round trip. what that means, for an out-of-shape gent like myself, is that when i get to work, i'm fucking pumped to sell dildos to whomever. like, mega-pumped. that in itself is an odd outlook, personally, nobody should ever be jazzed to test out an implement that you know is going to wind up in rattling around in someone's butt.

before i delve into the juicy shit: it will never be revealed which shop i actually work at. those know know me personally will know. past that, this knowledge will be curtailed.

on my first day, i sold a pocket pussy.

that's right. i had to put batteries in it and everything. it vibrated. the gentleman purchasing it informed me that it was "for [his] friend". man, everything in a porn shop is for someone's friend. noteworthy also was my seeing an old man fondling his wang through his shorts on the security camera, and watching a man jacking off a two-footer as if it were his own penis, then trying to play it off upon being discovered. incredible.

the store has an arcade. the arcade is a genuinely frightening series of dimly-lit corridors snaking their way through the south side of the store. i'm not going to make any attempt to sugarcoat it. people beat off in these rooms. men suck each other off in these rooms. unsavory.

on my third day, a scabby old fellow came in and unloaded the contents of his pockets on the counter.

i would like to say at this point i had seen everything; like, what's next? what can i see that i haven't already experienced? i saw someone playing with their wiener in a semi-public place.

the man brought a sex toy from home, and there it was, right there on the counter; sanitation be damned. he informed me that he needed new batteries. the old batteries were apparently DOA. i recognized this toy as one that we sell in the shop; the most powerful toy we offer. it consists of a remote wand that controls two vibrating bullets that have knobs and shit all over them. butthole stimulating knobs.

egad.

when i informed him that we didn't have any AA batteries in stock (four of them!), he inquired as to where he could acquire them. i informed him that the 7-11 would carry that which he desired.

he left, and immediately afterward i scrubbed the shit out of that counter.

minutes later, he appeared before me again; batteries in hand. dude was intent on getting this toy working. after he got it working, he gave it a quick buzz, asked the janitor if he was taking a break, then headed directly back into the eerie moral graveyard that is the arcade with his toy in pocket.

ok, so that's basically it.

the bike ride to this job is awesome. i can't stress that enough. aside from the bike lanes being literally fortified with broken glass, i have a blast riding to and from work. my calves and upper thighs feel hulked as fuck when i get to work. i kind of like that. i feel that if i ever had to kick down an arcade door to boot a hooker out, the bike ride is a great harbinger.

on the subject of bike riding, i have been trying hard to perfect a suitable playlist for riding to work to. when i finally have it worked out, down pat, i will be posting it here. whatever day i post it on, i will post a new one every two weeks from that day. isn't that awesome of me? everyone wins!

i work tomorrow, expect a story or two.

///N