The Jizzmopper Chronicles

You’ve Got To Be Fucking Kidding Me…

2012-02-15T21:21:00.001-06:00

The existingmanager got fired and two other employees quit, so Bill was placed as managerof the store.

While this is soundsterrifying the reality is that since the owners don’t trust anyone, a trainedcat could perform the required duties of the store manager. Also, since Billworships the owner and thinks every employee and customer is a thief, he’ll getalong perfectly.

Those who won’tenjoy this change are the clerks.

As StoreManager, Bill’s normal clerk duties have expanded to writing up the monthlyschedule (which never changes), coming in if one of the booth’s dollaraccepters gets jammed and covering random shifts is someone is sick, quits ordoesn’t show up. He has a certain amount of say when ordering product for thestore, but the vast majority of our stock comes directly from the warehouse,whether or not anyone put in an order. He can’t fire anyone, has no authorityover whom to hire, make deposits (this is already done by the person workingthe 3-11 shift) or get anything out of this position other than the title ofmanager and an extra $100 a month.

I was thrilledto finally move off the overnight shift to evenings, but this is really goingto suck. Now I’ll be sharing the evening shift will Bill from 2-10 p.m. at leastthree day a week, which means seven hours of attempted conversation withStupid-The-Kid.

I learned of hispromotion yesterday afternoon when I came in for my 3-11 shift. He blathered onand on until 10 p.m. about how things were going to change with him as managerand how Kevin and Kris were so jealous that he was made manager after theyleft. (In reality, Kevin got fired and Kris moved out of the area.)

Have I mentionedthat Bill’s entire life revolves around the store? He never talks aboutanything other than the store, the employees and the store owners when I can actuallyget him to talk and most of the time this is spent bitching about hiscoworkers. Even his downtime is spent thinking about the store and he oftencalls at the end of the 3-11 shift to hear how much we made during the evening.I don’t know if he thinks this will discourage employees from pocketing moneyfrom the register or if he honestly believes that he’ll get a bonus if thestore does well, but he loves hearing the daily totals and brings up past days’sales all the time.

In fact, heloves to brag about how much he’s made when he worked a 3-11 shift. Remember,this is the guy that calls every other guy in the store, “Queerer than atwo-dollar bill.” (Yes, the fact that there are two-dollar bills in circulationis completely lost on Bill.) He’s rude to every customer that makes him get offhis wooden stool and answers every customer question with a one-word answer.Yet somehow, his amazing salesmanship has resulted in the store earning more moneythat otherwise would have come in during the evening.

Now that his egohas been boosted, I expect his bragging, bitching and waist-size will continueto grow. I just hope he doesn’t do anything to outright hurt the store.

NSFW

2012-02-15T15:23:00.002-06:00

A friend gave me this.... kind of makes you think.

What does excellent customer service mean to you?

2012-02-14T21:14:00.001-06:00

I’ve written alot about how I don’t have to be nice to customers and that I can kick outpeople simply on a whim, but the thing is that I actually like helpingcustomers that have legitimate questions. The couple that wants to learn whereto start with sex toys. The husband who wants to bring home a naughty moviethat isn’t too intense. A young woman who doesn’t know what size lingerie willfit her and needs an objective opinion about which outfit looks best. (Okay,that last one has never happened.)

While themajority of customers I write about are freaks, the truth is that I believeadult stores provide an important service to loving couples who are looking tospice up their love lives. So I do my best when these customers get up thenerve to ask me questions.

Sometimes, eventhese legitimate questions are hilarious.

For example, oneSunday morning around 5 a.m., an older gentleman came in looking for, in hiswords, “masturbation sleeves” that were at least eight inches long. This wasnew terminology, but I knew exactly what he was talking about. For thoseunfamiliar with this product; do you remember those Water Wigglies toys thatwere a tube of plastic, filled with water and slipped out of your hand when youheld them too tight? (If not, Google Water Wigglies.) Now imagine this toy witha handle on the side so you can slide your penis inside and squish the entireapparatus until you ejaculate.

These productsare all about five inches long and there’s no reason you need to need to fityour entire penis inside as the movement in and out is the main appeal. Ishowed him what we had and he, realizing how small they were, started toobject. As he started motioning towards his crotch to express his great needfor something larger, I walked away and said, “I’m sorry sir, that’s all wehave,” over my shoulder.

Then there wasthe married couple looking for a “vibrator with an insane amount of power.” (Thiswas their, well-worded description.) This was fun because the husband keptagreeing and saying, “She just needs more power!” We went through a variety ofdifferent vibrators and toys, testing out the vibrating power of each with ourtest-batteries to find the most powerful toy in the store. In the end, theybought The Earthquake, essentially a penis-shaped vibrator that was four timesas large as a typical vibrator and required 5 D-batteries to operate. They wereso excited, I was surprised to see them tearing out of the parking lot. Iassumed they would have gotten busy while still parked in back of the store.

Then there arethe more depressing “family” incidents.

A large numberof parents try to bring their small children into the store. This isn’t allowedby the store and I’m pretty sure it’s against the law. Sadly, most of thesecustomers are looking to buy drug paraphernalia and I shudder to think of thechildren sitting in the back seat while their mommy or daddy takes hits whiledriving.

One incidentthat really disturbed me was a mom who came in with an infant that obviouslyhad some sort of mental disability. I don’t know if drug use had anything to dowith this child’s disability, or even if it was her child, but logic wouldsuggest it did. I told her she had to leave with the baby and she wentabsolutely ballistic. She droned on and on about how she comes in here with thebaby all the time and that she only needed a new bat box. None of this matteredand after she finished her diatribe, I repeated that I couldn’t serve her. Sheleft, angry and swearing, and I was left wondering about the future of thatpoor child.

Some parentseven go so far as to leave their kids in the car. If we see this, we’resupposed to kick the customer out of the store. I would kick them out even ifit wasn’t store policy. What kind of a parent leaves their kid in the car whilethey buy porn or drug supplies? (I have an angry, blatant answer for that, butwill keep these comments to myself.)

Sometimes, it’sreally obvious that there are kids left in a car. All of a sudden, you’ll startto hear high-pitched laughter over the constant stream of 70s love ballads thatbroadcast throughout the store. Other times, the bored kids will start to honkthe horn in a rhythmic pattern until their parent comes back to the car. In onecase, someone’s child even stuck their head in the door and cried out, “daddy”as the ten customers jumped, faced the entrance and then turned away with redfaces.

Some of thetrolls in the video booths drive to the store in vehicles that have child carseats in the back seats. But as often as I have to kick them out for trying tohave sex with each other, I have to give them credit for at least leaving theirkids at home.

Some days, mychildhood seems like it was a lot less complicated than most others.

Ask Jizz 2/13/2012 - Gay Marriage

2012-02-13T20:30:00.002-06:00

What’s your opinionon gay marriage?

I support gay marriage, but I’d like to begin my answer byexplaining that gay marriage is one of the biggest smoke screens ever broughtinto politics. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a complete non-issue that shouldn’tbe decided by politicians nor be a factor in any political race.

Minnesota is about to vote on a same-sex marriage ban amendment.This means that millions (perhaps billions) of dollars will be spent onadvertising campaigns and efforts on both sides to get Minnesotans to vote oneway or the other. It sickens me that we’ll be throwing so much money into thiselection that could have been spent to actually do some real good in the world.Also, there’s a 50/50 chance the results of this vote will be pointless becauseI strongly suspect this issue will be argued infront of the Supreme Court.

The fact that we’re even talking about this in politics iscompletely absurd. The biggest conservative groups against allowing gaymarriage are also the same groups that want smaller government and lessgovernmental influence in our everyday lives. How could you conceivably thinkit’s inappropriate for the government to tax you, but appropriate for thegovernment to tell people who they can and can’t marry.

Furthermore, the people using the ‘biblical marriage’ argumentare referring to a very small section of the bible. This is the same book thatinstructs you to marry your brother’s wife and impregnate her, should yourbrother die unexpectedly. You can also knock up your wife’s slave if she’sunable to provide you with children. Hell, bigamy is allowed too so why all thefuss about two guys or gals getting married.

I’ve long felt that the real issues at play here are:

Some people are really uncomfortable with theidea of homosexual relationships and would prefer them to stay hidden.
People insecure about their own sexuality orpast relationship failures attack homosexuality in an attempt to feel betterabout themselves.
If we accept there are actual legitimate, permanenthomosexual relationships, we won’t be able to look at gays as being creepyfreaks that live lifestyles that run contrary to those of ‘wholesome’ people.If they start being houses, raising kids and paying taxes, we’ve suddenly losta huge scapegoat to blame for the crumbling of our corrupt society. If all thishappens, we’ll have to face the reality that all of our problems are actuallyour own fault.

So yes, I believe gays should be allowed to marry. The factthat two people are so in love with each other that they want to make acommitment to stay together for the rest of their lives should be celebrated,regardless of gender. This relationship has nothing to do with you, yourmarriage, your children or anything else in your life. I’m sorry you’re uncomfortablewith the thought of seeing two married women shopping at Costco on a Saturdaymorning, but suck it up. I don’t give a fuck about your marriage, lack ofmarriage or relationship status, so stop caring about mine or anyone else’s.

I think we’ll get there and same-sex marriage will soon belegal in the United States. But issues like this are great for bringingassholes out of the woodwork who want to force their beliefs and agendas onothers.

I keep hearing about a “homosexual agenda” from the farright. All of this hate feels more like a conservative Christian agenda thananything else. If you want to be a strict, biblically-based Christian, that’sfine, but don’t expect everyone else to live up to what you feel are ideals. You should also follow all the other rules in the bible and stop obsessingabout gay sex. If you want to avoid things that are an “abomination to God” inthe bible, you’re also not allowed to:

Divorce and/or remarry
Lay with a menstruating woman
Lie – EVER!
Be proud
Sacrifice humans

If you start going through the Old Testament; one couldget stoned to death for cursing, not being a virgin when they get married (onlywomen) or doing work on the Sabbath. So if we’re going to start telling peoplethey’re going to hell, let’s first take a look at our own actions and realizethat we’re all going there for that trip to Home Depot last Sunday.

Bottom line, everyone needs to stop caring about what otherpeople are doing in their bedrooms. Once we do this our lives will be a lotsimpler.

(Thank you for allowing me to rant.)

So you’re being hit on by another man…

2012-02-10T11:10:00.001-06:00

I’ve always been completely oblivious towhen women have flirted or shown any interest in me. Gay men (particularly oneswho would hit on the clerk of a porn store) tend to be a little more, shall wesay, direct.

This particular incident took place during one of my last official overnightshifts. I didn’t pay much attention to the regulars who used the jerk-offbooths in the back and as a result, they didn’t pay much attention to me. Thisnight, there was a new face, a chubby, older guy in his 50s who kept coming upto get ones for the machines. I knew there was no way he was using all of hisones and he smiled at me, rather creepily every time he came up with anotherfive to break. I ignored him, hoping he would just go away.

On the third visit to the counter, he asked me if there was a place in town,“Where guys go to meet other guys.” (I assume he meant, “Where guys go to MEATother guys.”) I told him about a park across the way where I had heard was thelocal hook-up spot (see recent entry Sex vs. Sick). He thanked me for thisinfo, his change and went back to the booths.

Within 10 minutes he was back for more ones. (I should point out that the videobooths give you 4 minutes per dollar. The 50 ones that I have given to him inthe course of an hour were not used up.) He put another $5 bill on the counterand mumbled something that sounded vaguely like, “You’re very attractive.” Igave a confused grunt and he stepped back from the counter getting redder andredder. His five ones were sitting on the counter, but he just stood in place,staring at his feet. The uncomfortable feeling that rose through my feet and upmy spine was like a river of snot making me feel like I was being sucked-on bya chain-smoker. It wasn’t that he was hitting on me, it was that he wouldn’t goaway.

After what seemed like 15 minutes, he finally got his strength up and spoke alittle louder, “Do you ever go to the park?”

I had a number of options at this point. I could have gotten angry, threatenedto beat him up and kicked him out of the store. I could have ignored thestatement, walked into the back room and waited for him to leave. I could haveyelled back a diatribe about how I wasn’t gay and even if I was, I certainlywouldn’t screw a creepy old fuck that hits on strangers in porn stores.

In the end (pun intended), I chose to laugh and respond with an exaggerated,“Nooooooooooo….”

He replied, “That’s too bad. You’re very attractive.” I completely lost it atthat point and burst out laughing, trying to say, “Thank you,” and amusingmyself with a pipe catalog until he walked away.

The saddest thing is that I felt bad for him. If he comes on to a stranger likethis, he’s probably gotten his ass kicked a number of times. He’s looking forcompanionship in an all-night porn store and evidentially very determined. Heseemed like a lonely, little man looking for “love” in “all the wrong places.”

On the other hand, he could have been a family man with 5 kids and a wife, visitingMankato on business and just looking for a young trick to suck him off.

You just never know.

The window into peoples' lives...

2012-02-09T18:18:00.005-06:00

As you can probably imagine, working at astore like this, you’re allowed a rare opportunity to look into the dark little windows ofpeople’s personal lives. And a lot of times, it’s really fucking creepy.

In this instance, a guy came into the store a few days ago dressed in a dirty mechanic’soutfit. This was a little out of the ordinary because generally people comeinto the store after stopping at home to change into something more casual, butdidn’t’ raise any red flags. The fact that he bought an elaborate, $300 bondage kit didn't surprise me either. Iwould have thought a purchase on this scale could have waited until you hadtime to take a shower after work. Or at least wash your face and hands (he waspretty filthy… with oil. I’m not going to comment on the status of his mind.)

The truly terrifying aspect happened when I was handing him his change and Iheard him mumble something about, “That smart-ass teenager thinks he can dowhatever he wants without any consequences,” as he walked out the door.

I honestly went pale and expect to see a story in tomorrow’s paper detailinga medieval torture dungeon in the basement of someone’s suburban home. Istarted thinking of every survival horror movie where the victim is tied up ina basement and imagined this happening mere miles away from the store.

I haven't heard anything more about this and really hope that the bondage setnever got put to use. To be fair, we don’t sell very high quality bondage gear.It’s expensive, but not the sort of stuff that would last more than light useby people that aren’t really into bondage.

But you never know… somewhere in Mankatothere could be a gimp in the basement, yearning for freedom.

Autoerotic...

2012-02-08T10:39:00.002-06:00

To truly appreciate the eeriness of thisstory, you have to know a little bit about the location of the porn store in Mankato.Not only is it located on the edge of a college town, its parking lot is rightalong the railroad line with just a thin, wooded area in between the parkinglot and the train tracks. The store convenient for people coming in from theoutskirts of town, but it’s also a perfect target for transients riding therails looking for god-knows-what.

Considering this, I suppose it’s nothing short of amazing that I haven’t beenrobbed or even harassed all that greatly during my time here.

But back to autoerotic asphyxiation…

I had been working nine days straight while covering shifts for a coworker whowas taking an extended vacation to visit family in India. Nine days of workstraight at a porn store wasn’t a thrilling experience, but I have to admit thatI didn’t have to work that hard sitting around reading (non-sexual) books for90% of the shift. It’s always fun staying up all night, it’s the constantnocturnal schedule that starts to mess with you.

After the last of my overnight shifts, Ihad to come back in later that same day to work the evening 2 p.m. to 10 p.m. shift.It was a short night’s sleep, but not really all that demanding in the schemeof things. What really surprised me was that the parking lot was filled withcops when I arrived back at the store, a mere seven hours after my overnightshift had completed.

Apparently, the person working the morning shift found a dead body while shecompleted her daily cleanup of the parking lot. A man was hanging from a treewith a noose around his neck and his pants around his ankles. Authorities werenot able to determine if it was a suicide, an autoerotic asphyxiation game gonewrong or if other people were involved. Honestly, it’s really hard to tell. Icould see all three as possibilities given the location.

The really creepy thing about this story is that the police estimate that theguy strangled sometime between midnight and 5 a.m. the night I was working.This happened while I was sitting behind the counter or mopping the floors lessthan 100 feet away!

Part of my cleaning responsibilitiesincludes me to check the parking lot before the evening shift person leaves forthe night. Usually, I get annoyed by finding a pile of empty nitrous oxidecontainers someone dumped out of their car after getting high in the parkinglot, but now I have to worry about finding dead bodies!

As expected, the entire staff started making jokes about people ‘dying’ to getinto the store, but you could tell everyone was pretty uneasy about it. Theowner was at the store when I arrived and said that he was installing a“buzz-in” system to let customers in between 1 and 6 a.m. Overnight workers arenow forbidden from going into the parking lot when working alone in the store.Nice gestures, but a little too late for one unlucky gentleman.

You never know what will take your breath away at the porn store.

Detox

2012-02-06T20:49:00.002-06:00

We live in anamazing time and place. Not only do we have easy access to a wide variety ofchemicals that can alter our reality (both illegal and available with aprescription), but we also have another selection of chemicals we can consumeto hide the fact that we’re taking the chemicals we’re not supposed to besmoking/swallowing/injecting/etc. At least that’s what the outside of the boxeswould tell you.

I’m not stupid.I’ve experienced my share of chemicals and realize that addition is the biggestfactor in play here. If part of your probation agreement involves you subjectingyourself to random drug screenings in order to stay out of jail and you stillfeel the need to take drugs, there are some very powerful addictions at work.

One thing that doesbaffle me are the guys on probation, who know full-well that they’ll be back injail (or prison) if they fail a urine screen test and still insist on smokingpot. Now my stoner days are over, but as good as pot ever was, it’s certainlynot worth going to jail for. Hell, with what you can pick up at any givenpharmacy, it’s hardly worth tracking down a dealer.

Anyway,interacting with the customers on probation is a continual reminder of why Idistanced myself from the drug culture and why I’m glad I won’t be working in aporn store for the rest of my life.

The sciencebehind a toxin-flush drink is pretty simple. When you consume anything, (food,drugs, pollution in the air, etc.) a portion of that chemical will stay in yoursystem for a certain amount of time. The more of something you consume, themore of it stays in your system and the more you have to flush out (eitherthrough pee, poop, vomit or sweat.) I really hope this concept hasn’t confusedanyone up to this point.

There are toxinflush products readily available to the public. The problem is that a toxin-flushwill only remove a portion of these chemicals and it’s only a matter of timebefore your body starts naturally flush out the remaining chemicals throughpee, poop, vomit or sweat (you may have noticed a trend). This is a crucialpoint every drug user needs to understand because no matter how good the toxinflush is (or how much water you drink) sooner or later, your urine is going tostart containing traces of the drugs you’ve taken until they’re completelyremoved from your system.

Additionally,many of the drug testing companies can find traces of any chemicals you’ve usedto clean out your system (Goldenseal for example). This will invalidate your drugtest, so you have to be really careful. Knowing all this, it’s still quitepossible to pass a UA test, IF YOU’RE WILLING TO FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS.

I haven’t beenworking here very long and I’ve already had multiple customers come back inwith their empty box and receipt demanding a refund. (The box does advertise adouble-your-money-back refund, but you need to go directly through their parentcompany and provide a copy of your failed test.) At the same rate, I’ve also seena few regular customers come in at the same time every month and buy theproduct. After talking to both groups, the issue is clear.

THOSE WHO FAILAREN’T FOLLOWING THE INSTRUCTIONS!

I didn’t thinkthis would be such a big deal, but considering my earlier statements aboutaddition and continuing to smoke pot even though you know it will send you tojail, I guess it shouldn’t. Here’s how it’s supposed to work; one to two hoursbefore your test, drink the bottle of toxin cleanse. Fifteen minutes later,fill the empty bottle with water and drink that down. Make sure you pee twicebefore your test (this isn’t an issue as drinking this product causes you topiss and shit like a racehorse.) Oh, and AVOID ANY UNWANTED SUBSTANCES AT LEAST48 HOURS BEFORE THE TEST.

This is probablywhy most people fail. I’ve heard stories of people strictly following thedirections, then packing a oneie and smoking it on the way to the testingfacility. I expect there’s a special box on the form that the tester checks ifyou come into your test reeking of marijuana. I’d like my response to thepeople who do this to be, “You’re a fucking idiot and deserve to be lockedaway,” but strangely enough, I usually feel sorry for these people and politelyexplain that you need to abstain from any chemicals at least two days beforethe test.

I should pointout that I’m not talking about people who get random drug tests. These folkshave an appointment set a month in advance with their parole officer and knowexactly when they need to pee into a cup. There is absolutely no excuse (otherthan basic addition and being stupid) that they should fail to follow theseinstructions. In a worst case scenario, their test should come backinconclusive or too diluted, not positive for pot.

Another commoncomplaint is that the customer drank the toxin cleanse immediately afterleaving the store, then failed their drug screen a week later. Again, aconsumer shouldn’t use any product they don’t understand. A cleanse will onlyremove traces of chemicals from your urine for a short period of time. Failinga blood transfusion and liposuction, there’s no way to ensure drugs you’vetaken won’t eventually appear in your urine.

We’ve all heardstories about former drug addicts to wind up tripping-out during a long workoutbecause their body started to burn fat that storing drugs from their wild past.Or the acid-head who went into a chiropractor for an adjustment, only to leaveon a trip because a spinal adjustment released some of the LSD trapped in theirspinal column. (I have no idea if these stories have any merit of truth, butsince most people have heard them, you can assume most people would understandthe concept… but you’d be wrong.)

Drug testing isevolving as quickly as the cleansing systems, so it’s not easy to say how longthese store-bought cleansing methods will continue to be effective. We’vealready started stocking a shampoo that can be used before a hair follicle drugtest that is supposed to clean out any evidence of drug use. I haven’t heardany testimonials as to whether or not this product works, but my guess is thatit doesn’t. If someone is willing to have your hair chemically analyzed by alab, I’m assuming ANY chemicals on your hair will be easily detected.

Perhaps the mostingenious (and disturbing) product available in the UA screening world is themechanical penis that you can wear inside your pants, attached to an externalbladder of clean urine. While I’ll admit this is kind of neat, it does raisesome red flags about priorities in your life. Not only are you continuing touse drugs when you know it could get you thrown back in jail, but you’re alsowearing a synthetic penis device with a bag full of someone else’s urineattached to your leg to warm the fluid so it comes out at a “natural” temperature.This doesn’t even consider what you had to do, and who you had to ask, toobtain this clean urine.

I have heard anamusing anecdote about a guy who failed his probation drug test because it cameback pregnant. This could be an urban legend, but considering what these peoplehave gone through to attempt to pass the test (everything except not takingdrugs), it wouldn’t surprise me. Then again, nothing surprises me anymore.

Finally, itwould be prudent to discuss the legal ramifications of cheating on acourt-ordered drug test. It’s one thing to get caught cheating on a test you’retaking for a potential job and simply not getting hired when you fail, butgetting caught cheating on a court-ordered test is a FELONY. Not only will yoube going back to jail, you’ll also likely get time added to your originalsentence for attempting (poorly) to cheat on your pee test. This failed attemptwill most-likely be brought up at any future attempts for parole, so gettingcaught fucks you over in a variety of ways.

But hey, gettinghigh it worth it… right?

Ask Jizz - February 5, 2012

2012-02-05T19:53:00.001-06:00

Today’s question comes from a fellow blogger who writes alovely blog called 3XX Days to Go.

Are the boothsautomated or do you have to touch their money?

This question made me realize I didn’t give very much detailabout the physical mechanics of the booths. I’ll get to the answer to thisquestion in a minute, but please allow me to indulge myself first.

Back when I turned 18 and was still in high school, somefriends and I used to occasionally go to Broadway Book and Video in downtown Minneapolis.This was back before downtown Minneapolis got revamped and the place was a real eyesore.The creepiest people hung out in front and if you went anywhere near the gay section;guys would follow you throughout the rest of the store. The thing I rememberthe most was that they had a giant bondage cage in the center of the store witha lingerie-wearing mannequin inside (presumable for those who couldn't imagineit’s intended use.)

The first time a group of use went to Broadway, anothercustomer with the same color jacket as one a guy in our group was shovingmagazines under his coat. Suddenly, the voice of god came out of nowhereyelling that a cop car was immediately outside and that two in our group wereunder arrest for shoplifting. When the clerk, who was standing on top of adisplay case for extra intimidation, checked these two and found their jacketsempty, he yelled at us for making him think we were shoplifting. (While he wasyelling, the guy who was actually shoplifting slipped out the door with hisstolen goods.)

They had video booths in the basement, which was even moredisgusting than the main floor. Instead of the individual “booth/stalls” likethe store in Mankato, each booth only had two, small saloon-doors that left yourlegs, upper torso and head completely exposed. Because of this, you could walk downthe video hallway watching legs and shoulders shake as the patrons jerked off,completely unconcerned of others. They also had a “snack machine” that had, inaddition to candy and chips, condoms, lube packs, playing cards (?) and (surprise) poppers!

Their system took tokens and I mention this because the onesaving grace of Broadway was that their basement also had classic video gamesin addition to the video booths. I wasonce convinced to go to the store on the premise of playing the original Tronarcade game. About halfway through my game, I started thinking about what wason the hands of the other people who had recently played the machine. I decidedto let my friends finish the game, gave them the rest of my tokens and washed myhands ten times under very hot water.

The store I worked at had booths that only accepted bills.The machines took ones, fives, tens and twenties. Asthe clerk, I had to provide change to the customers that needed their largerbills broken down into ones. I always thought the main reason customers wantedchange was an excuse to walk down the video booth hallway and scope out whoelse was in the store. The guys who were serious about getting in, jerking offand getting out would put whatever they had in their wallet into the machine. I’doften start my overnight cleaning with a booth or two still running becausesomeone, now long gone, put in a twenty and then finished when they had… (ahem)…finished.

It was always the regulars who asked for change. The guys Ikicked out on a regular basis. They’d come into the store, ask for change, sitin a booth for a few minutes, come out and walk around the store, go back totheir car, come back in and then go back into a booth for a few minutes. We hadsigns up that explained how ‘trolling’ was forbidden at the store, but when you’rethe only clerk and there are customers in the store, there’s no a lot I coulddo to prevent it. (There were a few guys on our black-list that were forbidden from coming into the store. They'd often attempt to sneak into the booths by coming in the back entrance and never asking for change. But you had to fuck up pretty bad, or try to steal something, to get on this list.)

Some of these regulars came in cars I started to recognize.A large number of these cars had child seats in the back. This is why I try tomake such a big point that not everyone who is gay is a sexual deviant. I don’tknow if these guys were actually gay and stuck in a marriage, or sex addictscoming out every night for a quick thrill, but I saw them as creeps ratherthan gay. Anyone who spends more than a half-hour at a porn store and isn’tgetting paid for it, is probably not the sort of person you’d like around yourkids.

Nowadays (remember, I worked at this store from 1998 to2001) I expect customers can swipe a credit or debit card in addition toinserting bills into video booths. Places probably offer hi-definition video booths at a premium price for their upscale customers. Idoubt there are many places that have token systems, but if you find any, I’dleave the store as soon as possible.

Cleaning your head...

2012-02-03T08:28:00.003-06:00

After writing about the rather tame in comparison nitrous oxide, I thought I’d put down my thoughts on huffing “poppers” (video head cleaner/amyl nitrate).

IT’S FUCKING INSANE!!!

But seriously, it’s really stupid and if you’ve ever smelled this stuff, you understand why. Amyl Nitrate smells like someone took ammonia, combined it with rubber cement and paint thinner, and then left it to ferment in the sun for a year. I don’t care how good it makes you feel, the smell alone should tell you that it’s doing something terrible to your body.

Since I had never heard of them before I started working here, perhaps I should explain poppers for the uninitiated. Poppers are a small bottle of liquid that people inhale for a temporary state of euphoria and disassociation. It came into popularity among homosexuals in discos during the late 70s and has sense become popular throughout the adult entertainment and dance cultures. It was originally developed to treat angina (chest pain) and Hunter S. Thompson discusses its recreational use in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

Today it’s marketed as liquid incense or video head cleaner with names like Rush, Quick Silver and Locker Room (remember I mentioned that they were popular in the gay community?) The problem is that since it’s not officially created for human consumption, there are no regulations dictating what is actually put into these products. Amyl nitrate is now a regulated substance that is only available with a physician’s prescription. So what you’re actually inhaling could be anything from butyl nitrate (same effect at amyl nitrate with more risk of stroke) to good old fashioned ether (remember what killed the doctor in the Cider House Rules?)

Strangely enough, this stuff is a very effective video head cleaner, provided you want to open up your VCR and clean its head directly. Since there are 30 VCRs constantly running that supply the video booths with a constant stream of fresh porn, we frequently have to utilize this horrid liquid to keep the VCRs running. Bill, surprise, was the one who taught me how to clean a VCR head with a bottle of rush and a paper towel. It’s a simple matter of taking the top off the VCR, applying the cleaner liberally to your paper towel and spinning the video head manually a few turns until it wipes clean.

Simple and easy yes, but it’s just as easy to give yourself an unintentional rush while cleaning the VCR head. So far, this has happened to me twice and the pounding heartbeats in my head combined with the feeling that the building was about fall down on top of me had taught me that this isn’t a pleasurable recreational drug. I suppose it could be fun to use while at a dance club is already pounding your head with thumping beats or perhaps when you’re about to ejaculate, but I’ll leave those experiences to more daring individuals.

Poppers evaporate incredibly quickly and are one of the (many) reasons the video booth room is so well ventilated. Because of this awesome ventilation, I never smell them when people are utilizing the product while masturbating in the booths. Overall, I don’t mind selling the bottles. The only inconvenience is that I often have to sweep up empty bottles during the cleaning portion of my shift.

Everything you've ever wanted to know about nitrous oxide, but were too high to ask...

2012-02-02T06:52:00.000-06:00

If you’re likeme, when you hear the words nitrous oxide, you immediately think of visits tothe dentist and Steve Martin’s sadistic character in the remake of Little Shopof Horrors. At least, this is what I thought of before I started working here. Now I think of hundreds upon hundreds of tiny metal canistersthat I have to pick up out of the parking lot.

Allow me toexplain.

In addition tobeing a mild euphoric, nitrous oxide is also a useful agent in pressurizedwhipped cream. Thanks to Dennis Leary, and high school, most of us know thatyou can get high by inhaling the gas contained in these cans. Unfortunately, ittakes special skill to let the gas escape without covering your face withcream. Becoming high while you’re doing this adds another dimension to thedifficulty.

Fortunately, there are chefs out there whoenjoy making their own whipped cream and have created a market for small,manageable containers of nitrous oxide. Because of this, we’re able to sellsmall, steel containers holding 8 grams of the gas, which is about enough tofill a normal balloon. To help create the illusion that customers are cominginto buy nitrous oxide (and desktop scales) from us for cooking, this sectionof the glass case is filled with reusable whipped cream containers, cookbooksand body toxin cleansing kits (more on this later.) This doesn’t explain why wealso sell balloons and nitrous oxide container crackers, but I’ll ignore thatfor now.

In reality,customers come in and buy these containers to huff out of a balloon and get athree-second high. I know it’s only a three-second high because I tried itduring my first solo overnight shift. With no customers in the store, I crackeda cartridge, filled a balloon, inhaled as deeply as I could and proceeded tofall off my stool while giggling to myself. The high ended immediately and myass hurt for days. It seems like a great way to blow $40 on a Saturday night.

Other than theensured loss of brain cells, there isn’t a tremendous amount of risk withhuffing nitrous oxide other than suffocation. I’ve heard of nitrous“connoisseurs” who have died after buying an industrial tank of nitrous oxideand then opening it up in their non-ventilated home. I’ve also heard of userssuffering from blue lips after re-inhaling and exhaling directly into theballoon, with no fresh oxygen for five to ten minutes at a time.

Again; a greatway to blow $40 bucks.

Once I startedlearning more about nitrous fans and inhalant culture, I started pumping theregular customers for more information. Many said they like theunpredictability of the effect of nitrous combined with how quickly the effectsleave your system.

One customertold me about how he was invited on a camping trip with a group of friends whohad gotten ahold of a 200 liter nitrous oxide tank and were taking it out tothe woods. Once settled, everyone gathered around the pick-up bed with theirballoons in hand, ready to trip out. After he had huffed enough, he sat on theback of the truck and watched his friends empty a balloon into their lungs,turn and sprint for ten feet before stopping and trying to figure out why they hadfelt the need to run.

Another confidedthat he couldn’t invite particular friends to their nitrous parties anymorebecause certain people can become violent when their huffing. Nothing ever cameto blows, but as he put it, “It really harshes your mellow when the sameasshole screams at the top of his lungs for five seconds every time he takes ahit.” Now he gets a group together to huff in a parking lot, then they justdrive home.

This is probablythe same fucker who keeps leaving me piles of empty canisters to clean up inour parking lot at the beginning of every shift.

All thingsconsidered… actually, considering the other stuff we sell in the store, nitrousis pretty tame and relatively benign. It’s just expensive, short-lasting andleaves a huge mess.

Sex vs. Sick

2012-02-01T08:06:00.000-06:00

Working the overnight shift and the factthat I mop the floors of the video rooms has already resulted in me getting thenickname Jizzmopper. Not that I mind this. You’d be surprised how quickly youget used to someone calling you Jizz.

I might have mentioned that Mankato doesn’t have a gay friendly bar or socialhangout, so the video booths in the back serve as a pick-up location for thelocal gay community. Yes, this is pretty gross, but knowing that not all gaysare sexual deviants, it really bothers me to think that this is only place ahomosexual male feels they can go to meet other like-oriented males.

I brought this issue up with friends of mine in the Mankato State chapter ofSAGE (Straights and Gays for Equality). We talked in depth about how sexualdeviancy has clouded the public’s perspective of the gay community as a whole.

Simply put, the guy trying to suck off a stranger in the back of a porn storemay be gay… but he’s also sick. Additionally, not every gay person is trying tocommit anonymous sexual acts on a sticky, cum-filled floor in the back of aporn store.

It really got me thinking because working in an atmosphere where your mainexposure to the gay community is chasing people pants-less out of the back ofthe store with a baseball bat doesn’t leave much opportunity to fornon-bias.

It would be like a border guard in Texas’ opinion of Hispanics.

Sex, in particular porn, is pleasurable and like all things that feel good, it canbe addictive. I don’t think we should ban porn because of this any more than Ithink we should ban alcohol because some people are prone to alcoholism. I amvery liberal on this subject and don’t think we should ban any drug. I alsothink that the only things that are obscene are those that actually hurtsomeone else.

It all comes down to personal responsibility. One could ask themselves, “ShouldI buy this $400 sex doll or should I instead use this money to set up aneHarmony account, meet a real person and develop a personality?” Most wouldagree that we shouldn’t put a law in place that would require people to spendtheir money on responsible activities, but this is exactly what “morallegislation” sounds like to me. In a capitalist system, that we all know andlove, the government’s role should be to encourage economic activity, not limitand regulate it.

I like to think the majority of devices I sell are used to enhance a lovingrelationship and not as an attempt to fill a gaping void in someone’s soul… butI’ll never be sure. There’s no way we could actually test this and if a personwants to fill a… void with a molded-plastic device, carpe diem.

To be fair, I’d have these same questions rolling around my head if I worked ata liquor store or bakery (although I’d be suspicious of the customer who keepsbuying birthday cakes for themselves.) Freedom includes freedom to destroyyourself by following an unhealthy lifestyle. This could be killing your bodywith drugs and alcohol or it could be practicing in an unsafe sexual lifestyleby meeting strangers who might infect you with something or knife your gutsout.

But back to my main point, there’s asubset of the population that would like you to believe that every homosexualis a pervert, trying to have sex with you while spreading his or her lifestyleagenda. They point to places like this store as an example of why thehomosexual lifestyle is evil and that our children must be protected. But theproblem is that the freaks licking cum off the floor and giving each other handjobsunder the dividers of a video booth are not anyone’s definition of normal. Iwould venture to guess that even the most seasoned hedonist would find thisbehavior dangerous, disgusting and scary. Even if you like the idea of havingsex with strangers, unprotected sex with someone you’ve never met is downrightstupid.

I hate being pigeonholed and don’t like todo it to other people. Saying that every gay person is mentally ill by thequestionable lifestyle choices made by a tiny, perverted, section of thepopulation is unfair. You might as well call every person who drinks alcohol abarfly.

Ask Jizz Volume 1

2012-01-31T14:49:00.002-06:00

Hi everyone,

Just because I want to assure everyone that I am, in fact, a real person, and because I like answering questions, I'm opening up the first segment of Ask Jizz.

Simply send your question about the porn industry, porn shops, sex or me to jizz_mopperhhh@hotmail.com or leave them in the comments section.

Also, try to make it possible for me to give an amusing answer.

Thanks for reading!

Bill. An introduction.

2012-01-31T07:54:00.001-06:00

As a personal rule, I try to assume the best of all people. This usually causes me a lot more pain than just assuming everyone is a self-centered idiot, but I’m not ready to become a complete curmudgeon. Particularly, if someone appears to be especially unintelligent, I try to save judgment for after I’ve made an attempt to get to know the individual.

This was the case with Bill, the 400 pound, former overnight clerk that had just been “promoted” to working the evening shift. My very first shift at the store had been with Bill and the manager warned me that he was pretty stupid and to not take anything he says very seriously. But I feel like I have to be the guy who gets along with everyone, so I spent most of this shift, and every following interaction, trying to strike up a conversation and at least become friendly with him.

I failed.

For starters, Bill just isn’t ignorant, he’s completely stupid. Worse yet, he’s one of those stupid people who are under the impression that they’re one of the few really intelligent people on the face of the earth and that everyone else is a complete moron.

He constantly criticizes other employees and Kevin, the store manager, but kisses the ground that the owner and regional managers walk on. As far as I can tell, he’s not doing this to get anyone fired or to become manager himself, he just believes that everyone but him is a thief, trying to steal the store blind.

Furthermore, he’s completely impossible person to engage in a conversation with. During one of his lengthy criticisms of Kevin, he talked about how, “Shit like this never would have happened when I worked at Taco John’s.” I attempted to engage him by talking about working at Wendy’s in high school and he started making fun of me, saying, “You have to be pretty desperate to work at a shithole like Wendy’s.” This got me wondering about the hierarchy of fast-food shitholes and that Wendy’s couldn’t possibly fall below Taco John’s, but I didn’t think Bill would have anything to add to this debate.

Another time, Bill started talking about his trip to Hawaii with his family the year before and how complicated it was to organize the work schedule with him off overnights for two weeks. He spoke rather highly of the vacation, but every time he talked about food, it involved the family stopping at McDonalds or Denny’s. “You won’t believe how expensive a Big Mac is there,” he said. When I asked if he had tried any of the local food, he just laughed and said, “That fish shit is bullshit.” Yes, that’s a direct quote. He also talked about an amazing adult bookstore warehouse he visited on the island of Maui. Yes, he was on vacation from working in a porn store, in the tropics and went shopping in another porn store WITH HIS FAMILY!

All of a sudden, I started a conjectural biography for Bill. Clearly, a guy his size must have been made fun of growing up. But instead of using this experience to develop a clever wit and biting sense of humor, he learned to parrot back the things that kids said to him in junior-high school. I made the leap that a family who visits Hawaii and shops at a porn store there isn’t very smart as a whole, so his mindset was probably encouraged most of his life. His older brothers and mother must have been nice to him growing up because he talks about them as the smartest, most successful people on the planet.

One evening, Bill opened up to me about his stepdad. “The guy was an asshole,” basically summarizes everything he said during that 15 minute monologue (for lack of a better descriptive work) and he has no contact with his biological farther. Because of his experience with his, possibly abusive, stepfather, Bill doesn’t drink and derides everyone (except his brother, who only drinks the most expensive scotch) who does. He feels that drinking is stupid and a complete waste of time. It also killed his stepdad, who asphyxiated on his own vomit after a night of heavy drinking. “I never got that,” he explained. “If you started choking, why wouldn’t you just wake up and turn your head?”

Clearly, Bill wasn’t a drinker.

As obnoxious as this guy is, he’s also fascinating. I feel like I could fill a book with nothing but my experiences and quotes from him.

The best experience yet came about when I tried to talk to him about heavy metal. His pickup truck had an Obituary sticker on the back, so I figured this was an easy way to get him to start talking. The results would have been hilarious if they weren’t true. He didn’t seem to understand what I was talking about when I brought up the band name, so I finally explained that I knew he liked metal because of the sticker on the back of his truck. “Oh, that,” he said. “Yeah, I thought it meant… you know… that car they use to move dead people?”

“A hearse?” I suggested.

“Yeah… that.”

Unbelievable!

Booth Cleaning 101

2012-01-30T07:35:00.002-06:00

(Friday,June 12, 1998)

I’ve been working overnights a few weeks now and I want to attempt to capture what it’s like to clean the video booths in the dark, dank back of the store. I’ll admit that being a Jizzmopper is pretty gross, but I also mean it when I tell people it’s nowhere near as bad as it sounds. I’ve worked a lot of menial jobs in my time and I’ve dealt with a lot worse (i.e. shit and vomit) cleaning a Wendy’s bathroom than I’ve had to clean up in the jerk-off booths.

Preparation is the key. The first thing I do at the clock nears 3 a.m. is put on the thick rubber gloves that almost reach my armpits. I do this before I pull out the mop bucket, get the ammonia ready or touch ANYTHING that involves cleaning at the store. HIV may not be able to survive outside of the body, but my internet search concerning blood borne pathogens that can survive on a smooth, dry surface was all the encouragement I needed to be careful.

Once I’ve put on my Jizz-Mat suite (a little porn store humor for you), it’s just simply a matter of filling up the mop bucket with water and ammonia, then grabbing the ammonia spray bottle and scrub brush.

Some nights, usually weeknights, there’s hardly anything to clean up. Other nights, usually during the weekend, I amazed at the locations customers are able to spray their semen. Sure, anyone can wipe their cum as high as they can reach, but I’ve seen legitimate cum shots that were so high on the wall I needed to grab our store step ladder to reach them. This got me thinking that perhaps these video booths are a necessary customer service. If men come in so clogged up that when they finally ejaculate is shoots nine feet into the air, the world really, really needs a place like this. These poor guys are probably lucky their prostates didn’t explode while they drove over a speed bump.

Perhaps cum shot distance is some sort of desired honor in the dark, underworld of sex that people practice and strive for. If this is the case, I don’t want to know.

Cleaning semen off a black wall is a little more complicated than just wiping it down with ammonia. The first step is spraying as much of the bottle you can onto the sullied wall without getting light-headed off the fumes. Next, it’s important to utilize the scrub brush effectively to make sure that all of the solidified ejaculate has been torn from the wall as the longer it sits, the more securely it attaches itself. The last, and probably most important, step is to return to the walls you’ve cleaned, apply more ammonia and then wipe the area clean with a paper towel. If you don’t do this, the scrubbed area leaves a clearly visible white “cum ring” that is really difficult to clean off after it sits for more than a day. As funny as it sounds, no employee wants to get yelled at by the owner because the video booths are filthy. (He’s 75, looks 55, has a beard down to his waist and carries a concealed handgun.)

Mopping the floors is exactly the same as mopping any other floor, other than the fact that you know exactly what’s causing the discoloration of the white tile. I’ve found myself taking special care not to let the mop or water drip onto my shoes or clothes, but despite all of my efforts, I haven’t been able to see any swarms of sperm swimming laps in the mop bucket.

So far, the worst thing I’ve seen in the video booths has been cum shots directly onto the video screen, which seems to be a goal for many customers (the TV itself is locked into a protected case with a clear plastic piece over the screen.) One night, a hetero couple went into the booth together later in the evening (this is actually allowed, but more on booth activity later) and when I went in to clean the booth after they left, I found the letters “L U V” written in semen on the wall. It didn’t irritate me because the incident didn’t require any more cleaning than a normal shot on the wall, but it did make me wonder what kind of woman would find that stimulating, let alone want to touch the walls of the video booth.

So that’s the dirty truth that most people are probably wondering about. To be honest, it’s really not that bad. I used to work at a Super America and cleaning their bathrooms was a million times worse than wiping cum off walls. And after hearing horror stories from friends who work in food service or custodial services for the university, anything I’ve seen pales in comparison. Cleaning the booths is better mainly because it doesn’t smell (usually), it’s something I’ve had to do in my own life (see: adolescence) and most importantly, it’s not shit!

Yes, I’m a Jizzmopper like they talked about in Clerks. But I’m also a well-paid retail clerk that doesn’t have to deal with irate customers (they’re kicked out), returns (they’re also refused and asked to leave) or selling food (to be fair, we do sell some candy, but I don’t have to clean a grill!) Of all the non-skilled jobs I’ve had so far in my young life, this is the best.

If you think it’s gross, go work at the bank.

A booth in which to masturbate

2012-01-29T13:10:00.000-06:00

(Friday, June 12, 1998)

One of the strangest things about adult bookstores, particularly ones on the edges of towns, is the concept of a video booth. Here, individuals can enter a semi-private stall to watch dirty movies for $.25 a minute while jerking off.

Even as a clerk at a porn store who understands how much money these booths bring in, this concept seems strange to me. Don’t get me wrong. When I was a teenager, I masturbated all the time and having a socially acceptable place to do it in public would have seemed like heaven when I was 14. By the time I was 18, I’d learned to use more restraint and the idea of watching dirty movies alongside 8 other guys with nothing but black-painted particleboard between us seems… yucky.

As the overnight clerk, one of my main responsibilities is to clean the video booths once a shift. It sounds grosser than it is. I have thick, rubber gloves that go up to my armpits and spray the walls liberally with ammonia before scrubbing them down. Other than that, it’s just mopping the floor that happened to be covered in cum. But still, this is the only real work the job requires me to do and this particular part is over in less than a half-hour. When I talk to friends who spend long hours in hot kitchens, waiting tables or working on assembly lines, even with the jizz mopping, this job seems pretty sweet.

(Editor’s note: To this day, the smell of ammonia brings me back to sitting in a fluorescent dump in the middle of the night, waiting for 6 a.m. to roll around.)

As you might expect (or maybe not, I expect most people’s minds don’t work this way), one of the biggest problems of having video booths is that some men will use the location to attempt to have sex with other random men. This is Mankato, which doesn’t have a gay bar or any other gay locale other than the college SAGE organization for gay and transgender students and their supporters. Unfortunately, because of the lack of a better option, some people use the video booths for random ‘romantic’ interludes. I’m responsible for paying attention to the security camera screen that broadcasts what was going on in the hallway of the video booth room. Some of the regular “patrons” discovered that there was a video camera in the hallway and in an attempt cheat the system, try to sneak to the booths next to them by sliding on the semen-covered floor.

Because of this, I have to constantly be listening for the sound of clothing sliding across linoleum, louder than normal grunts or the clang of a belt buckle hitting the floor.I’ll admit it. When I first started, it was a rush to run in with a huge mag-lite and catch a guy on all fours trying to jerk off the guy in the booth next to him. Patrons caught in this position seem to fly straight up into the air when the light hits them, despite being on all fours, like a cat being tossed into a boiling hot bathtub. I’ve also seen guys damn-near knock themselves out when they realized they were busted, stood up quickly and ran face-first into solid plywood.

Very funny, but also pretty sad. I try really hard to think that the guys I catch aren’t sexual deviants, that they’re just lonely and this is the only way they feel they can act on their sexuality. But deep in my heart I know that the Gay 90s is only a 90-minute drive away and that if they really wanted a meaningful relationship, they wouldn’t be searching for it the back of a store that sells 10 different styles of nipple rings.

A friend joked about how funny it would be if I went to check on the booths, only to have a 350-pound gorilla of a man come out and beat the crap out of me. I fail to see the humor in this, but it did make me pay closer attention to who was going in and out of the booths.

Knowing this insider information, you may ask why a business owner would put up with this kind of activity at their store. It’s a simple matter of money.On a slow week, the booths bring in $1,000 a week.

This means that the whole video booth computer system paid for itself in less than a year! (Yes, the whole thing is run by a computer hooked into the VCRs.) Additionally, the movies played on the 30 available channels are movies that come directly from the store’s stock, so there’s no need to buy movies extra moves for the booths. The manager just needs to look at the weekly view report, find which movies were most popular and stock up the rest of the channels with similar movies.

I was honestly surprised to learn how many “genres” of porn exist. For the booths, channels one through ten are 6-hour heterosexual scene compilation tapes. These are great because they take longer to play through, there’s less rewind and replay cycles, and the VCRs don’t need to be restarted as often as the ones playing shorter tapes. Channels 11 through 15 are always lesbian videos and always the least popular channels. The store manager is able to choose what to play on channels 16 through 19, which means they were usually the strangest fetish tapes he could find in the store’s selection of videos. While we originally put them on as a joke, the report showed that videos like Ragtime (women having sex during their monthly period), the World of Denni-O (videos of extremely large dildo penetration) and any number of bondage videos were very popular and making us the most money after the gay videos. Finally, channels 20 through 30 are gay and also always the most popular (the look I received from Bill when I asked why more channels weren’t gay discouraged me asking this question again.)

This does bring up the point of copyright control. Most adult movies have the standard FBI warning we’ve all seen that explains this video is for personal use only and that you cannot charge people to watch it. Charging people $.25 a minute to watch porn in a video booth is in direct violation of this law, but I have yet to hear of an adult video company cracking down on adult bookstores for engaging in this practice. Maybe the video companies don’t care about this copyright violation, I expect they know it’s happening all over the place, but I don’t expect them to make an effort to enforce their rights anytime soon. What a great business to get into when you can (albeit illegally) make money from someone else’s “hard” work?

I can’t imagine what kind of cash a larger store like Sexworld in Minneapolis brings in with their video booths. Then again, I expect downtown Minneapolis’ warehouse district provides a lot more colorful clientele than the porn store on the edge of a college town.

It never ceases to amaze me what people will pay money to do.

Recap of my first week

2012-01-28T20:25:00.000-06:00

(Friday, June 5, 1998)

Okay, I’ll admit it. In theory working overnights at a porn-store-head-shop sounded fantastic. I usually stay up late all the time anyway and it can’t be that hard to sit behind a glass counter and sell smut. But after staying up all night and sleeping during the day for a week in preparation for my first overnight shift, and after living this schedule while working, my body is telling me something is wrong.

The first rule I learned on the second day of staying up all night was to go to sleep as early as possible. Don’t stay up until 2 p.m. and attempt to sleep until 10 p.m. for your 11 p.m. shift. I don’t care how early you’ve had to wake up in the morning, attempting to convince your body that 10 p.m. is the appropriate time to begin your day is damn-near impossible. Once you make it out of your bed, which is an event in itself, you’ll quickly find that your legs don’t want to work, it’s very easy to fall back asleep in the shower and that a double cheeseburger combo meal is the absolute worst thing to eat right after waking up.

But let’s start with my first night at southern Minnesota’s finest place to buy porn, a hash pipe or jerk off to a dirty movie in your own private booth during any time of the day or night. Before starting work, I had only visited the place a handful of times. My pot smoking days were over and thanks to the recent advancement of the internet, paying for pornography seemed completely antiquated. My friends joked frequently about how working there would be the perfect college job. Working overnight would free your days for classes, there would be plenty of down-time to study and you could kick out any customer that got on your nerves. While all of this turned out to be true, the reality wasn’t nearly as exciting once the novelty wore off.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect during my first shift training all night with a seasoned overnight clerk, so I brought a lunch, a few books and an optimistic attitude. At 10:45 p.m. I opened the store’s door and the brightness of the fluorescent lights burned into my psyche like a powerful pornographic messiah and it took a few seconds to get my bearings and finally introduce myself.

I had never wondered what Darth Vader would sound like if he were a morbidly obese male, but meeting my trainer Bill gave me a pretty good idea of what this would be like in real life. This 400+ pound idiot deserves a separate entry completely dedicated to his comical and amazing habits, but for now I’ll say that training with him was probably one of the most amusing experiences of my life.

Overall, working the overnight shift is pretty basic. The main priority is keeping an eye on the customers. Not to assist them, but to make sure they’re not stealing anything. Suffice it to say that customer service is not one of the priorities in a setting like this. Bill made it perfectly clear that you can’t trust ANYONE, and always makes special effort to keep a close eye on anyone who looks Mexican or gay.

Next in order of importance is keeping an eye on the security screen that monitors the video booth hallway. This is essential because some of the customers will try to sneak into each other’s video booths to have sex with each other. It’s also important to listen carefully, since the experienced video patrons know we have a security camera up and will slide under the booth walls, across the cum-stained floors to jerk and/or suck each other off. I’m still not sure what the appeal of this is, but it’s pretty amusing catching someone, literally, with their pants down. Bill seems to take special pride in this aspect of his job, yelling at people as he ushers them out the door and telling them they’re no longer welcome to masturbate in our private video booths.

Next on the list is making sure the videos for the video booths are up and running. There are 30 VCRs set on repeat that often overheat, turn themselves off and need to be reset. Resetting them involves taking apart the VCRs and cleaning the video head manually with a paper towel and bottle of video head cleaner. Since we’re already selling head cleaner to the video booth customers, better known as Rush inhalant, there’s always a fresh supply to use for keeping the VCRs running. After giving myself an accidental and extremely unpleasant “Rush” while cleaning one of the VCRs (more on this later), I really wonder why anyone would put themselves through this experience intentionally. Then again, I wasn’t on my hands and knees, masturbating while licking other people’s cum off the floor at the time, so maybe I missed the something about experience.

Last on the list, and only so because you can really only do it when there aren’t any customers in the store, is the once-a-shift cleaning. There are the normal retail cleaning duties, mopping the floor, cleaning the glass displays, organizing the merchandise, but with one crucial addition, the video jerk-off booths must be cleaned. I was somewhat relieved to learn that this process involves everything being sprayed liberally with ammonia and then wiped clean with disposable paper towels. As I got ready to help with the cleaning, I put on the shoulder length rubber gloves, but Bill decided that he didn’t need anything covering his hands… nor did he feel the need to wash his hands after the cleaning was finished.

As gross as the last duty sounds, the great this about this job is that the cleaning only takes about an hour of the shift and after about 2 a.m., no one comes in and I’m free to do just about anything. Bill said that reading during your shift was frowned upon, so I left my books in my bag after we were done cleaning and spent two hours trying to make small talk with this wonderfully disturbing man-child until people started coming in again around 6 a.m.

There’s really too much ground to cover in a single entry, so I’ll focus my writing from now on, on specific topics, subjects or events. My only hope is that the strange stuff that happens doesn’t become too commonplace that I decide not to document it.

My First Night

2012-01-28T20:11:00.000-06:00

(Sunday, May 31, 1998)

I should be excited about tonight, my first overnight training shift at the porn store, but to be honest, I’m just tired. I stayed up all night the past few days in hopes of avoiding being exhausted for my first shift, but tonight, I just feel like the change in sleep schedule is catching up with me.

So, I’m tired, grumpy and it’s depressing. Part of me feels like I’m going to young-male Disneyland, but the rest of me has no idea what to expect and just wants to go to bed.

Ever since I got the job offer, I’ve been telling everyone about my new job. The reaction has either been one of disgust (most casual acquaintances) and jealousy (pretty much all of my friends), but only time will tell who is right.

What does one do in an adult bookstore for an eight hour shift? I guess I’m about to find out.

An Introduction

2012-01-28T17:48:00.000-06:00

As an avid fan of the History and Discovery Channels, I’ve learned that mankind has had porn from just about the time we could write on cave walls. Drugs, or at least efforts to alter our consciousness, have been around even longer. I feel the need to point this out before the reader goes any further. It’s very easy to look at porn stores and head shops as beacons of vice that should be eradicated off the face of the earth. However, from a historical standpoint, it’s fairly obvious that any attempt at outlawing any product simply creates an underground market for it.

I’ll freely admit that sale of these items does have a tendency to attract the underbelly of society. That’s one of the reasons why these stories are so amusing. Anyone who’s been at a bar at closing time has seen this too. It just comes with the territory of mind-altering products and I’ve chosen to view these incidents as amusing, rather than shameful. If each of us takes a look at our own experiences, we’ll each find embarrassing experiences on drugs or alcohol that we’d prefer weren’t told.

This is not academically-based, non-fiction and since the action takes place in adult bookstores, it will be easy to be judgmental towards the wide variety of clientele that come through the doors. Yes, there are people who are mentally ill and addicted to sex that frequent porn stores simply looking for anything to fuck. But on the other hand, I met a lot of sincere individuals and couples that came into the store honestly looking for some tools to make their loving connections stronger and more exciting. There are two sides to every story and while the content may focus on the freaks and weirdoes (they tend to be more entertaining), know that not everyone who shops at adult bookstores is the type of person who would, given the chance, violate you with a turkey baster.

I use to feel conflicted when I worked at the adult bookstore/head shop in a small, Minnesota college town. There were lots of people coming in to buy pipes that looked like they should be spending this time getting their lives in order. And since this town didn’t have a safe and accepted gay hangout, lots of young, gay guys would troll the back video booths, looking for a “date.”

But life is about choices and the fact that Mankato didn’t have decent outlets for the young people who live there, nor a gay bar or social club to allow homosexuals to meet new people in a non-sexually deviant environment isn’t the fault of the store. We provided goods that people were looking for and this, my friends, is how America works.

It’s unfortunate that compulsive people have based their lives around drug use or random sexual encounters with strangers, but you might as well ban alcohol or casual sex based on these factors. The majority of customers weren’t coming in everyday and weren’t trying to hump each other in the back.

Sit back, relax and have some fun taking a look at the strange things that happen when you sell “tobacco” supplies and mature content.

Welcome to the Jizzmopper Chronicles Reboot

2012-01-28T16:57:00.000-06:00

Hi everyone,

My (nick)name is Jizz and I’m a real person writing about my real experiences.
I spent my entire college career working at an adult bookstore, eventually becoming assistant manager before graduating and moving on to the professional world. I kept track of my experiences during this time in hopes that I’d be able to do something with these notes.

Ten years after these experiences, I started working at another adult bookstore to earn extra money for my upcoming wedding. The two stores were complete opposites, as you’ll quickly see by reading these posts, but both offered some very entertaining, and sometimes disturbing, experiences.

I’ve been posting to this blog for about 3 years, but I’ve not deleted all my past posts to reboot the blog, start a twitter feed and begin posting these experiences in a chronological order. Keep in mind this means that early posts will be taking place in 1998, when the internet was still fairly new and DVDs hadn’t caught on yet. So if it sounds like a 19-year-old is writing this in the late 90s, it’s because this is when the original experienced happens.

There will be a compiled book eventually that will compile all these stories and fill in the blanks in between. Stay tuned for more information on that.

Thanks for looking and feel free to send me a message at jizz_mopper at hotmail.com or follow me on twitter @jizzchronicles.