There is a regular customer at work I am worried about.
He has come in every day this week to see me. One day he even came in twice, the last time to introduce me to his dog while they were out for a walk.
He’s an older guy, married, nice. But he’s drawn to me, I can tell.
This is not good. It has all the makings of a coming-of-age/rites-of-passage European film.
Older man seeks spiritual redemption from young woman who works in an adult boutique.
You know you’ve seen that shit before.
A man is perusing the women’s plus size rack.
You know what that means.
I ask him if he needs any help. And he tells me, very candidly, that he has been wearing women’s underwear for 40 years. He does not like to wear women’s clothing—just lingerie.
His wife of 20 years tolerates it, but he’d really like to find someone he could hang out with for an hour here or there and just sit around and talk or eat and watch TV—in lingerie. He said he’d pay $100 an hour.
I am a starving student and I do love myself some lingerie, but I can’t do it.
It’s too bad that he has to pay money to fulfill his desire, but really—in one form or another, don’t we all?
I’ve spent the last three hours doing inventory and the store is CLEAN. Also very, very slow.
Thankfully, a couple came in and spent a ton of money. I think the man was trying to impress because he encouraged the woman with him to throw whatever she wanted onto the counter. He paid in cash.
Ten minutes before closing, a woman came in, swept up almost $500 worth of lingerie, and told me to pick her out a toy: “Just make it red.”
She didn’t bother with trying anything on.
I noticed that she had a man waiting for her in the car.