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Where's the porn?

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  • Where's the porn?

    Okay, this story was requested by three people in the hugging/touching thread, so, here it goes, I hope everyone enjoys it.

    Some random, fairly dead, night at Chesterfield finds me out on the floor, halfway straightening movies, until a group of four teens walks into the store. I stop straightening to go up and wait at the counter, in case they need help.

    One of them comes up to me and makes motions to hug me. Now, I'm usually willing to return hugs when they're given to me first, almost no matter who gives them to me. And this guy, though I'd never met him in my life, was no exception.

    The odd thing right then about the hug was that he kept thrusting his pelvis at me, though, due to extreme height differences, he was more humping my knee than my pelvis. Eh, so he's a little yappy dog customer. No big...

    Next thing he does?
    "Where's your porn?"

    M: "ID?"
    He finds his card and hands it over. I didn't even have to look at the date on it. He was labeled as "Under 21 until four years from next week."
    M: "Not even gonna happen."
    H: "Huh?"
    M: "You're 16, going on 17, you have to be 18 to even glance at our porn."
    H: *to his friends* "Damn, he's good."
    M: *thinking* "Yeah, math is hard!"
    He digs back into his wallet, and pulls out his Replay card. "Now can I rent porn?"
    M: "Seeing as a card doesn't age you by a year, not to mention the fact we are, indeed, a seller of movies, not a rental outlet, no."
    Once again? "He's good."

    Group wanders around for a little, seemingly rebuffed by my defense of the law.
    One of them walks back up to me a little later.
    G2: Goth 2, a girl.
    G2: "What's your name?"
    M: "Juwl."
    The rest of the group suddenly pops into existence around her. None of them come up beyond my neck, even while I'm leaning against the counter.
    G2: "Shouldn't you be wearing a nametag?"
    M: "Nope. Store doesn't require it."
    H: "Can I try to guess your name?"
    M: "Be my guest, I could care less."
    H: "Jeff?"
    M: "No."
    H: "Jerry?"
    M: "No."
    H: Phil?"
    M: "No again. And I already told her my name."
    H: "I wasn't listening."
    M: "Yes, I was aware of that."
    H: *again, to the group* "Damn, this guy _is_ good!"

    Group leaves, I just had to shake my head at all of their actions. Odd, but not harmful.
    "I call murder on that!"

  • #2
    Completely random and off the topic, but after reading a variety of your posts they always give me the same reaction. I hear Chesterfield and think of a mall I used to go to in the town I grew up in. And then in a later post you mentioned West County. Just on a hunch I'd assume not many cities would have the same two malls so I'm guessing you live in the city that I am from. *dons her red and white sports gear and boogies* My grandmother lives right next to Chesterfield mall, literally less than half a mile.
    "Oh, the strawberries don't taste as they used to and the thighs of women have lost their clutch!"

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    • #3
      That's sad. Depriving kids of their porn. Why even bother trying to fool you by giving you their ID? Whenever I was asked for my ID...nevermind, I didn't give up, I came up with great excuses that worked. But people stopped asking for my ID when I was 15/16. It's funny how kids always expect to get away with buying/renting stuff that you need to be a certain age for.
      "I've found that when you want to know the truth about someone, that someone is probably the last person you should ask." - House

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      • #4
        Quoth Heksubah
        *dons her red and white sports gear and boogies* My grandmother lives right next to Chesterfield mall, literally less than half a mile.
        Yes, I come from the city of Fred Bird.
        "Ya bettah run, ya bettah take cov--...ered?"
        Doesn't quite work that way, now, does it?
        "I call murder on that!"

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        • #5
          I used to get free passes to see the Fred Bird and all his happy baseball minions since my dad worked for KMOX. He used to do all of their commercials until about '99 when he moved full time to the lake where he owns 4 radio stations. His name is still fairly well known in the great Saint of Lou, though, well... his radio name, not his real name. Casey Van Allen.
          "Oh, the strawberries don't taste as they used to and the thighs of women have lost their clutch!"

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