What I Learned From Working In A Sex Shop

Tara L. on the Joys of Helping People Find the Exact Right Cock Ring

Dear Republic,

With our inexhaustible interest in people’s jobs, and the real grit of their lives, we share Tara L.’s essay on her time at Pleasures and Treasures.

-ROL

WHAT I LEARNED FROM WORKING IN A SEX SHOP

When do you really become an adult? It seems to me that the official transition can be marked from the moment you have lost interest in play. Few toys exist specifically for adults and I’d wager that most adults consider musical instruments, board games and sports to be “play time”.

But I worked for the real deal in college, a toy store for adults. My absolute dream part-time job, the one I didn’t know I needed until I read the listing in the local pages, the one conveniently located between my apartment and my classes — the position at Pleasures & Treasures, aka: the local sex shop.

I was scheduled for 4-8 hour shifts, on my own, left to sell sex toys, lingerie, party supplies and porn. Yes, physical porn. But this is where my love of learning bloomed. Not at college, not at my industry-appropriate internships, but here, among the dildos and the lube.

I spent all my downtime hours studying the products and their reviews, battery requirements, waterproofing, guarantees and health claims. I knew every ill-named porn category back to front (which was actually one of the categories). I could give a tall, male, stripper costume recommendations without even asking his size. I painted the front windows with themes: MerryXXXmas!

Imagine you live in a town with less than 15,000 people and you go to the only local sex shop, next to a busy intersection, McDonalds and gas station. It’s awkward! People were often very uncomfortable with just walking in let alone admitting they’ve never purchased a vibrator and aren’t sure if they’ve ever orgasmed. Trust me, you’ll know.

There were moments of awkwardness. Like being asked to join a couple as their third in the middle of my shift, to which I regretfully said no. Or lying to an elderly regular about my age while he was trading in his latest DVD. Or like warning my college professors not to visit the store under any circumstances, followed by their congratulations for me having secured any job.

The moments of joy were more often. Talking for an hour about how ben wa balls could help a woman with incontinence. Bringing my friends in and having them ask increasingly silly questions while I rattled off professional answers with no censorship. There’s just something fun about hearing your friend say cock ring in an educational manner.

It shouldn’t come as a shock that these skills are very applicable to a corporate job. I mean, someone’s getting fucked in both situations. Kidding. Asking hard questions made me good at collecting information from customers and getting them to sign up to a professional service, my love of learning made me a product expert at my software job, and my ability to educate customers at the sex shop became a love for onboarding and training.

Unfortunately, not everyone in my little town was ready to be so sex positive. I spent long shifts without a single customer, bored and roaming the shelves. I didn’t understand why I was so able to learn every little detail about products for my part-time job, but I couldn’t remember a single sentence spoken during my Wednesday night business law lecture. Was it just interest level? No, I am really interested in both law and sex toys. Is it that I’m being paid to be at the sex shop? No, I earned 11.25 an hour. Is the presentation of the information better? Absolutely not, half of the labels in the sex shop had been crudely translated into English and made little sense.

So what was it? It was adventure. It was curiosity. It was play! When I researched information for my job, I used it the next day to try to make a sale, or connect with a customer, or properly label a product. I experimented with my knowledge. I was able to make my own rules about how I took in information and how I remembered it. I was silly. I was playful.

I took home a porn DVD, manager-approved, and realized porn movies don’t have bad plots, they actually have no plots. It’s a hard cut from cheerleading practice to sex on a white couch, I’m not even sure it was the same actors. So for anyone with a decent private internet connection, I didn’t recommend any titles.

I used my employee discount to get my first vibrator, because even I, the woman who stood behind the counter at the sex shop, wasn’t sure if she’d ever successfully masturbated. I hadn’t. So I learned to do that too.

I tried to be adventurous in college. I had sex in the middle of the soccer field at night only to have the sprinklers interrupt us. I had sex with a twin and spent the next couple years wondering if that was the twin I’d slept with or not…

I had been propositioned to join my roomie and her boyfriend years earlier, said no and always regretted that. I thought the regret was tied to missing out on another story. But now I know, it was my hot roommate that I missed out on.

I’m 22 when I start working at Pleasures and Treasures and it’ll be years before I realize I’m bisexual. Everyone thinks women are hot. Women’s bodies are more attractive, objectively. The signs were very obvious, surely to everyone, most of all my girl friends who I always kissed on nights out.

From my first interview, over the counter, to my last day, giving my manager a tearful hug (I miss you Bex!), and all the uncomfortable customers who dared asked me a question: it’s only awkward if you let it be! The sex on the soccer field was awful, but fun, and not awkward. Talking to my roomie the day after we didn’t hook up was not awkward. After college, sharing my experience when interviewing for my first adult job was not awkward. I would never let it be.

Art by Cindy Sherman