Today I was in 7-11, and in a very very bad mood. The cranky old counter-lady was eyeing me suspiciously, in a "that young man is wearing a black trenchcoat, he must be stealing something" way. This was the icing on my bad day of a cake.
So I retaliate by bringing the orange juice I'd come for to the counter, and calmly asking her to add to my purchases a copy of each and every porno magazine from behind the counter, one at a time. "Oh, and that one, 'Biker Sluts.' Yes, thanks. And say, what's that one there? 'Black Hot Rods?' Yes, one of those. And the next one over, 'Pussy Parade.' Yes, put it here, with the others. And the one over there, I can't read the title but it has that blond guy with his face in the other guy's- yes, that one.." etc.
Soon I had a towering stack of about 20 porno mags next to my orange juice. "Will there be anything else?" she barks at me.
"You know, I hope you don't judge me or anything based on this stuff I'm buying," I offered. "I just like them for the dirty pictures."
"Look, is that it or WHAT?" She really wanted to get rid of me.
"Actually... I'll tell you the truth, okay?? I only read the articles, but I'm too embarrassed to say!!"
Then I ran out crying, leaving everything on the counter. I walked around the block and collapsed on a bench, laughing myself silly for about 5 minutes straight.
I felt much better afterwards.
(I found this story while rummaging through some old directories. It was originally posted to PLA's old email list and I had intended to publish it in the next issue of Dark Fluffy Phreaking Bunnies, which I apparently never released. Rob T Firefly is known around these parts for illustrating the PLA book and making awesome PLA songs. Visit his website at www.robvincent.net.)
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