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Plumber's Crack—Redefined

by Atticus Rexx

I’m going on six years of working in a porn store. That first eye-opening interview that unveiled the truth about what goes on behind the closed doors of adult stores has become a distant memory. I even laugh at my own naivety when I think back to my initial reaction to walking into a porn theater for the first time. A reaction I now witness when I uncover the secrets of gloryholes and arcades to an unsuspecting, albeit curious, customer in my store. A reaction that, I won’t lie, I get some pleasure from.

Working in this unconventional environment for a certain amount of time will render you numb from shocks and surprises. It takes a lot to catch me off guard—or so I thought.

It’s the seemingly normal days that are the ones to always take an unexpected turn. Below is a recount of just such a day.

It was a predictable, steady weekday afternoon. Sales had been steady, half my arcade was full, and I was keeping busy with customers and various side tasks. I had a small lull between customers when a man walked in and parked himself at the counter. I greeted him as I always do and welcomed him in. He patiently waited until I was finished helping my customer. I asked if I could help him find anything or if he had any questions. The man sheepishly swayed side to side, slightly, while admitting that he had a very awkward question to ask. I internally scoffed; there was no such thing as awkwardness for me. Nothing surprises me anymore; I've heard it all, I told myself. I waved away the awkwardness and asked what his question was.

“Well,” he began, “I have something stuck.”

“Stuck?” I asked.

"Yes, stuck. I have something stuck in my rectum."

I paused and contemplated where this could be heading, but I encouraged him to continue.

"Okay," I tried, "You have something stuck. Have you gone to the hospital?"

"Oh, yes," he replied, "I've been to three different ERs, and they all told me that I need to have surgery to remove it. But I didn't want to be put under, so I left, and I'm looking for other options. Do you have any advice?"

Another pause from me. The last thing I ever want to bring down upon the company that I work for is some kind of liability lawsuit that involves me advising a customer on how to get something dislodged from his rectum, and it goes very, very wrong. So, I proceeded carefully.

“Well, I’m not really sure what I can do to help you.”

He then proceeded to go into detail about the various things that he and his girlfriend have tried to get the thing out, including, but not limited to, needle-nose pliers, scissors, and enemas. He admitted that the object is, in fact, not something meant to go up a butt and that it was a plumbing pipe attachment.

“My phone is dead, but perhaps I can use yours to do a quick Google search and show you the item?”

“That is not going to happen,” I quickly replied.

He seemed a little hurt by the rejection of including my poor phone in his dilemma, but there was no way I was going to cross that line.

I tried again, “Sir, I really don’t think there is anything I can do here except to encourage you to listen to your doctor and go back to the hospital.”

His whole persona looked defeated. He slumped his shoulders forward slightly and exhaled a sad sigh.

“Yeah, okay," he said, "Thank you, anyway. I think I'll try another store."

With those parting words, he exited my store, never to be seen again. But I will always wonder what happened to him.

Did he actually have surgery? Is it still stuck up there? I will never know. And to my future porn store worker comrades, I salute you.

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