Now that I’ve told the story of the boy in my bed, it’s time for the story about the time I tried to get a job at an adult “boutique”. Boutique makes it seem so like upscale and bougie. It was not. But I’ll get to that in a moment.
After the boy stayed over, later that week I was browsing for a part-time job. I was feeling totally badass. I came across a listing for an adult store here in town looking for a part-time worker. Let me take a moment to say that I am restless, really impulsive, and bored AF right now. Messing with catfishers was just not doing it for me anymore. I have a tendency to get a little reckless, and make bad decisions when I am like this. But I digress. I thought since I had a boy stay over I could do just about damn-near everything. Hell, I could handle working at a mother fucking adult store, yo! No big deal. I’m all about sex-positivity, ending the shame, and education. I thought this was like my calling! It was meant to be, especially that week.
I told my coworkers, asked my friends if I could use them as a reference, and got down to applying. I was so tickled! The application was really easy, and the final step was to go visit the store. After I got off work, I zipped down the Boulevard to see the shop. It’s on the very southern edge of town, and kind of isolated (red flag 1?). I pulled up, took in my surroundings as I got out of my car, and confidently waltzed into the store. I walked up to the counter, told the guy I was there to apply for the job, and was met with some confusion. Though the ad was on the internet, he didn’t think they were hiring, but had me fill out an application anyway. I asked what it was like working at the store; a typical day. He laughed that laugh when you find something funny, but in a dark way. I would say it’s like a sardonic laugh? Is that the right word for it? Antyway, it was one of those “I have zero faith in humanity, and I’ve seen it all” laughs. He said you basically had to think humans were trash to work there (not exact words, but how I interpreted it). Also that I would see it all because people are weird and have all kinds of different weird kinks. I put on my hell yeah, let’s do this, I can handle this attitude. Because, y’all, I had a boy sleep in my bed! I have superpowers now!
The dude working there mentioned an “arcade” in the back where people can go watch movies. I dismissed it at the time, enamored with the whimsical idea of being a beacon of sex positivity and education. While also conducting my own little case study to better understand humans in that kind of setting. I thought it was going to be really interesting.
I was called a couple of days later, and told that I got the job! I drove back down the Boulevard, all excited and shit (I should also briefly mention, and I’ll write about this sometime in the near future, but I was coming from church. Like I went straight to the adult store from an evangelical church service. I thought it was a bit ironic). There were a few cars in the parking lot, but when I went inside there wasn’t a soul in the front of the store. I smelled weed too. The manager came out, and I introduced myself. I filled out my paperwork, and started talking to him about the job. It all came down to this: I needed to understand that they had people come in, go to private rooms, and watch movies. I was going to get propositioned simply because I worked there. I was to politely turn them down. I was going to get sexually harassed. I asked about their policy, and was told the most I could do was tell them that they couldn’t be back in the store that day. There really wasn’t a Zero Tolerance policy. Because who would expect that at an adult store right? He told me I’d see all kinds of people looking for all kinds of things for their particular kinks and weirdness. Which whatever. I thought I could handle the kink part. Like I wouldn’t necessarily be shocked. I was told I needed to have tough skin, because of the guaranteed harassment. Other people had quit because they couldn’t handle it...as if that was a bad thing. He then told me that I was most likely going to work the graveyard shift (until 1), and most nights I would be there by myself. I was hesitant about that part, but was still thinking I could do this. After all, I am a bad ass. A boy slept in my bed, and I could do anything. We agreed on a time for me to start training.
My mom called just as I was pulling out of the parking lot. I excitedly, and defiantly, told her what I had just done. That, uh, did not go over well. She freaked out, and I made her cry. She told me I didn’t have to do something this extreme to prove whatever I was trying to prove. Then told me that this was going against everything I believed in. I was trying to stand my ground, and had told already told other people that I had gotten the job. I didn’t want to go back on my word here. My friends were pretty supportive of it. I understood why my mom wouldn’t be, but that was my mom. She and I don’t agree on everything, and she was triggered. I went home to think about what she had said, still planning on at least showing up the next day to try the job out.
I called and texted a few other people, talked it through with a friend, and decided not to take the job after all. My mom and friends gave me some perspective: it was not going to be safe. Especially working there alone until 1 am. I was going to place myself in an unsafe situation where I had zero protection or recourse when someone went too far with their words or actions.
I really didn’t need to do that, or expose myself to that just to prove a point that I could now handle anything. Because the truth is, I can’t. I can’t handle constant sexual harassment. I have spent so much time and energy getting well, and that would kind of defeat the purpose.
I really had to step back, and evaluate what I was doing and why I was doing it. Here’s what I have come up with, and I don’t like admitting it at all. Feelings, fear of the feelings, and fear of rejection.
I’m also trying to redirect all of this anxious energy I have. I’m sexually frustrated, and frustrated that life has been really shitty as to deny me the pleasure of getting it on with the person I really want to get it on with. I mean life has been REALLY shitty to him lately. When I cannot have what I want, I do everything else that I think will make it better. But it doesn’t. It makes it worse. It’s really self-destructive. I have got to figure out a way to channel this energy and frustration. To ground myself again.
That’s what I’m going to work on this week. Slowing my ass down, and grounding. Which is funny because I drew the Four of Swords last night in the future position. Wow. This all just came full circle, yo. Gahtdamb Universe.
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