That’s right, I’ve decided that through the entire holiday season all my entries are going to be DEpReSSiNG as I attempt to see life through the darkest lenses imaginable. During the holiday season I naturally tend to get more nostalgic, sentimental; indulge in morbid, melancholic romanticism (or just plain bitterness), and perhaps I can use this space to better deal with it, have some fun with it and make it all seem a bit less pointless. Boy, I sure am depressed now, thinking about what happened at work today. I was standing behind the counter selling tokens to masturbators, as usual, when all the sudden I look and there is some guy in his forties in a fucking wheelchair with the door half-open, trying to get in. He gives me a mean, tired look and says, “How the hell am I supposed to get in this place?” The porn-store isn’t exactly handicap-accessible; there is a small concrete step you have to walk over in order to get in.
“I guess I’m going to have to help you, aren’t I?” I say, rolling my eyes as I walk around the counter, go outside and start pushing this guy and his fucking wheelchair into the store. I don’t have anything against handicapped people in general, but when they come into the store in wheelchairs they are extremely annoying. They bump into all the other customers; the store isn’t real big and the aisles are really narrow so they are constantly knocking shit off the walls; knocking shit off the shelves. They show no concern for it, either, figuring it is someone else’s job to constantly accommodate them and pick up after them as they leave their trail of debris and never fucking BUY anything. They just knock shit off the shelves and leave! I was in a shitty mood and just didn’t feel like helping the guy, sorry. And I’ve learned that no matter how sweet, cuddly, friendly, nice or helpless customers in the store seem to be, they are masturbating pieces of shit who show their true nature eventually, even those in wheelchairs. I mean, it was a nasty, cold, rainy November day and this guy decides to come into the store by himself. Usually they are accompanied by someone who helps push them around, but not today. This guy was all by himself, extremely needy-acting, and had no problem inconveniencing me with his petty solicitations for help even though I had tons of work to do, boxes of videos to price, and I knew he wasn’t going to fucking BUY anything because people in wheelchairs never do.
After I clumsily and painfully maneuver his wheelchair over the step to get him into the store, he looks at me and says, “Where are the fake dicks at, man?”
“Are you going to buy one if I show them to you?” I ask sternly, as if speaking to a child.
“Yeah, I might,” the guy says, so I point over to the far wall, to the dildo section and watch as he tries to make it over there, bumping into customers, knocking shit off shelves. Eventually a big blow-up doll box falls from the T-top in the middle of the store and nearly crashes upon his head, so I exhale and decide to actually start PUSHING this fuckers dumb WhEEL ChAIR toward the stupid ”FaKE DiCKs”, as he so eloquently called them, in order that nobody gets hurt. I finally get him to the dildos, having to say “excuse me,” to about five customers, when the guy points to one on the wall too high for him to reach. “I wanna see that one,” he says, so I bring it down for him as he holds it and starts sighing, like he’d just climbed Mount Everest or something. It’s a standard, semi-realistic-looking fake cock, 6 inches long with a bright, pink tip.
“I want to see what it feels like,” he says, looking at me like a wide-eyed child filled with wonder, fumbling with the packaging and hinting for me to let him open it.
“Are you going to buy it if I let you open it?” I say.
“Yeah, I might,” he says, “if it feels like my own used to . . . I lost my dick in the same motorcycle accident I lost use of my legs in five years ago.” I didn’t really need to hear that, I’m thinking, as I watch this guy rip the dong out of the package like a kid on Christmas. I’m feeling pretty disgusted with the fucker at this point, actually, watch as he runs his fingers along the shaft of the rubber cock, massaging the pink tip, making moaning sounds as he does so. Then he sticks it between his legs and begins shaking it, giggling like a buffoon, saying, “I have a penis again! I have a penis again!” , giving me a look like I’m supposed to be touched by this lame sort of “gallows humor” he is displaying. I’m wanting to make a sale so I’m being patient, then all the sudden this fucker starts to put it IN HIS FUCKING MOUTH!!! He starts pushing the fucker in and out of his mouth like he is sucking his own cock, and that’s when I realized the joke was on me and decided I’d had enough. “Alright, that’s it,” I say, “I’m pushing you out of here.”
I begin pushing this fucker out of the store, bumping into customers, saying “excuse me” over and over and smashing into things. Shit is falling all over the place and the whole time this guy is saying, “Ah, c’mon, man, I just want to stay here and suck my own cock,” laughing and thinking he is being SO funny. I push his stupid wheelchair out the door. It nearly falls over as it goes down the step in a chorus of clangs and clunks as he shouts over his shoulder, “I wasn’t going to buy anything, anyway! I was just fucking with you!” It’s raining out and this crippled fuck is going to get drenched, all alone in his poor little wheelchair, out there in the cruel world. I’m honestly thinking how sad it is that a guy like him could be so bitter as to actually use his disability as an excuse to fuck with me like that. As I was picking up all the stuff from the floor, a stupid masturbator came up to me and said, “Don’t it piss you off when people do stuff like that?” I said, “Nah, it just depresses me more than anything else.”
