(no subject)
There was this one morning while I was at the shop that this customer shook my hand and slid me a little paper square. I said, "what's this, man?" I was kinda pissed off, thinking that he was giving me his pocket trash like saying, fuck you, here. The dude answered back, "ah, it's nothing man, but there's always something in nothing," and walked away, allowing that little bit of lame-ass profundity to set in. I opened up the paper square only to spill a bump of coke all over the counter and my fingers.
That same day some guy came in with a big ol white plastic bag, hair all gray, big and fucked up looking but like artist-fucked-up looking. He wanted to know how the arcade in the back worked, does it take coins, cards, dollars. I said it takes dollars and he starts walking back there with the bag and so I said, "Hey man, no bags allowed in the back." Normal Shop Protocol. "But I got this here: the toy and lube, I wanna take it back there with me," he said, just like that. "Uh, naw man. You go, the bag stays here. Yea?" He gives me some shit but eventually gives up the bag. The bag with a $40 10-inch Topco dildo, WildFire series and a emptied bottle of lube, Wet Warming lube, 1 ounce. And he's walking away all pissed off and shit in the need to say something smart, to put me in my place. "Well, I better not do anything in the booth like touch my head. Is that allowed? Can I touch my head?" he goes, all sarcastic and shit, scratching his scalp. "Depends on which one!" I go. He eventually goes, watches his fill and walks out. So I kept thinking this guy looks familiar, not sure from wear, an ex-girlfriend's dad, someone we kicked out months or years back, whatever. I grab one of the Adult mags and stumble across this guy's picture.
Paul Thomas from Vivid Entertainment. Big Shot Producer.
Too bad we got off on the wrong foot. He would've been a good friend. There's a moral in the story somewhere.
That same day some guy came in with a big ol white plastic bag, hair all gray, big and fucked up looking but like artist-fucked-up looking. He wanted to know how the arcade in the back worked, does it take coins, cards, dollars. I said it takes dollars and he starts walking back there with the bag and so I said, "Hey man, no bags allowed in the back." Normal Shop Protocol. "But I got this here: the toy and lube, I wanna take it back there with me," he said, just like that. "Uh, naw man. You go, the bag stays here. Yea?" He gives me some shit but eventually gives up the bag. The bag with a $40 10-inch Topco dildo, WildFire series and a emptied bottle of lube, Wet Warming lube, 1 ounce. And he's walking away all pissed off and shit in the need to say something smart, to put me in my place. "Well, I better not do anything in the booth like touch my head. Is that allowed? Can I touch my head?" he goes, all sarcastic and shit, scratching his scalp. "Depends on which one!" I go. He eventually goes, watches his fill and walks out. So I kept thinking this guy looks familiar, not sure from wear, an ex-girlfriend's dad, someone we kicked out months or years back, whatever. I grab one of the Adult mags and stumble across this guy's picture.
Paul Thomas from Vivid Entertainment. Big Shot Producer.
Too bad we got off on the wrong foot. He would've been a good friend. There's a moral in the story somewhere.