[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.
wouldn’t it better to assuage your guilt by selling two metal cockrings the next time you’re there?
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No, sir. Standing your ground does not require you to reimburse the store.
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