Open for Repairs

[The door to the Forge’s bar store is basically a large, wooden panel on gliders that locks from the outside. As it is the end of my shift, I have shut everything down and am counting my drawer, when the door suddenly slides open, and a customer pokes his head in.]

Customer: “Are you closed?”

Me: “Yes, we are.”

Customer: “What time do you close?”

Me: “We close at 11.”

Customer: [glancing at his watch] “Oh. Well, can I come in and look around a little?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry. We’re closed.”

Customer: [walking into the store and looking around] “Do you carry cock rings?”

Me: “We do, but–”

Customer: “I’m trying to find a black one. Like, stretchy… what do you call it… that stuff scuba suits are made out of.”

Me: “Neoprene.”

Customer: “Yeah, that’s it! Do you carry those?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Do you carry big, metal cock rings?”

Me: “Yes, but we–”

Customer: “Oh, hey! Here they are! I’m going to get one.”

Me: [glaring balefully]

Customer: “Except… you’re… closed.”

Me: “You noticed.”

While I’m proud of myself for standing my ground in the face of an invasive customer with boundary issues, I am also totally buying a metal cock ring tonight to assuage my guilt over missing a decent sale. This is called reclaiming my neuroses.

2 thoughts on “Open for Repairs

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