True Porn Clerk Stories - Ali Davis [45]
Yes, please.
Suddenly bang, a job, and one that I actually wanted. I start Monday after Thanksgiving and I'm looking forward to it: The work will be challenging and fun, the people I'll be working with are terrific, and I dimly remember health insurance being a pretty nice thing. (In a perverse way, I've realized that I'm actually looking forward to my next illness or injury, just for the sheer joy of going straight to the doctor instead of waiting for five weeks to see if whatever it is clears up.)
Everything else happened suddenly too, so suddenly that I never knew Thursday would be my last shift. I thought I'd get one final shift in there Monday or Tuesday to say my goodbyes, and even dropped a note asking for one, but Gary just went ahead and took me off the schedule.
It makes sense, I guess -- this way I don't spill over into another payroll week, but still. I dropped by Saturday to find out when I'd be working my last shift and instead turned in my hard-won key. I spent a little time reassuring a pissed-off Casey that I'd never meant to just split without telling anyone, and then it was time to go. I'd always visualized a sort of Dorothy-leaving-Oz moment, but it was the shift change and they were busy and a new clerk had already sprung up to take my place. So we said so long and that was it.
I felt a little bad that I didn't get to spend a last shift cheerfully announcing my departure to my regulars and positively beaming at my dirtbags, and a little sad that I didn't get to thank Mr. Gentle for being such a bright spot, but in the end clean breaks are usually best.
I am no longer a porn clerk.
Addendum:
When people e-mailed me about this journal, hands-down the most responses were about the special joys of Aqua.
But the individual person who inspired the most mail was Mr. Gentle.
I was sad that I didn't get to say goodbye to him. I did get one of the clerks to let me go into the system one last time and leave a note on his file: "Please tell him Ali says thank you for being such a bright spot in her mornings."
As I typed the note, I of course had his contact information right there, but to use it would have been a violation in a couple of senses, not to mention way too creepy. And I wasn't really sure what I'd say.
So I had to leave it.
He found out I'd left when the other clerks rolled out the red carpet for him once they saw the note. Anyone who had dealt with him before already liked him, but that definitely gave him a little extra oomph.
He, as it turned out, asked for my contact information, but, to their credit, no one at the store would give it to him. He understood.
One clerk did, however, tell him about this blog, and a few days later I got an e-mail from Kevin Mullaney at the Improv Resource Center that finally put us in touch.
And then a day or two after that we ran into each other on the street, which undercut the drama of the search a little bit, but was still fun.
I think the first thing he said after hello was "I'm royalty at the store now!"
Mr. Gentle and I became close friends. We still are.
So if I were to give one last piece of wisdom I picked up at the video store, it's to trust the hunch that you and that person might get along really well.
Let's Talk Evolution
As soon as I started clerking (or, rather, as soon as I started telling people that I was clerking) people wanted to talk to me about porn.
Sometimes it was with the same combination of giggle and frisson that is normally used for bringing up a silly-yet-scary ghost story, sometimes it was with an almost scientific detachment, sometimes it was with prurient interest, and sometimes it was just because the over-the-top world of porn is frequently hilarious. Actually, it was usually a combination of all of those. I'm not being superior when I mention that -- I dove into the conversations before I got all cold and dead to porn, and I'll admit to getting quite a bit of mileage out of my odd little