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#funny story
foldingfittedsheets · 2 months
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Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.
When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.
When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.
In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.
If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.
“Could I get a bag….?”
There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.
I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.
The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.
The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”
“There’s no bags?”
“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.
He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”
When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.
“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”
I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.
If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".
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and if you look to your left you will see the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me
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yukimisouzou-kim · 17 days
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The Shenanigan Of MalleYuu #23
Yuu: “May I see your baby pictures?” Malleus: *a bit embarrassed* “Sure thing…” *picture of black lizard baby Malleus bleeping* Yuu: “......... Daaaaawwww……” 🥺❤️ Malleus: *cough embarrassedly*
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oifaaa · 6 months
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Wait who is Tims assigned youtuber?????
Well
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xiaq · 4 days
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Story time: A (sex) trope conversation with my husband
Y'all want to hear about a hilarious conversation I had with B today?
Of course you do.
So B knew one of the fic authors I follow had posted a new work and I was planning to read it after dinner while he watched some sports ball. Afterward, he asked me how it was and I said, "Eh, kinda disappointing, but for me reasons not for author reasons––the writing was bomb, as usual."
And he was like, "How was it disappointing?"
I explained that the story started right off the bat with the "fuck or die" trope which I'm not typically into because dub/non-con isn't my jam. UNLESS the characters already have a romantic/sexual interest and especially if they are secretly pining for each other and then wracked with guilt in the aftermath for enjoying the circumstances before admitting they've been in love with each other all along. In which case it's
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But that was not the case, here.
And B, bless him, was like
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"...I think we have fundamentally different ideas of what 'fuck or die' means, can you please explain?"
So I did––gave him a couple examples like biological imperatives or heat/rut, pollen or potions, etc.
And he was like, "Ohhh ok, that is...not what I thought it meant. How did that become a fandom thing? Is that a trope in some major franchise?" he asks.
And I was like "My love. My heart. Are you familiar with STAR TREK?? PON FARR??"
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and he was like "Why are you shouting I have no idea what you're talking about."
So then he got an education.
The man has only seen a few episodes of next generation and the more recent movies so had no clue about the deep and abiding fandom fascination with Vulcan biological imperatives. But boy howdy is he now aware.
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valeskawhore · 4 days
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vox and dumbification my beloved 🤭
Like imagine reader is Vox’s assistant, they are smart obviously but Vox always acts like they are the dumbest bimbo/himbo ever. Like- “can you get me a coffee baby? You know how I like it-“ and then he explains it so slowly lmao
“You know how I like it baby, 3 sugars, stirred twice.. not three times, I can tell remember? Only a dash of cr—“
“Yeah I know, sir. 3 sugars, stirred twice, a dash of creamer—“
“And a dash of creamer, exactly! Sweet pie!” Vox would stand up and pinch your cheek, “such a smart baby for me, what would I do without you?” :)
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spoonful116 · 6 months
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I remember senior year of high school, people asking if they were a top or bottom. My asexual ass thought it was about bunk beds because we were going to dorms soon.
My answer was bottom because I was always afraid of falling off
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palimpsessed · 2 months
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Happy birthday, Basilton. Enjoy your @erotic-grope-fest.
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furiousgoldfish · 6 months
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Had a critical event today. I was in a public facility, waiting in a line, and I realized the person first in the line looked a lot like my mother. I ignored this and got distracted. However, when she turned around and started walking to the exit, I saw her face, and it was indeed.. my mother. I turned the other way, stared at my phone, feeling waves of panic washing over me. I expected every second to be approached, or tapped, or to have her standing in front of me, calling me by name. I had no plan, no idea how to get out of that. She wasn't supposed to find me. I lived for 7 years without running into her once.
However.... she didn't recognize me. She walked right past me, and went out. And didn't come back. I waited for a bit and then turned around, and the room was empty of her. There was nobody recognizable anymore. She didn't spot me, or recognize me, even though I was so close, a step away, was looking at her face, right before turning my back on her.
I am immensely blessed by my family members forgetting how I look like or how to recognize me in public. I've been beside myself all day. What is safety if not abusers walking past you not realizing who you are? I would recognize her anywhere but I guess she didn't really look at me much during our life together.
I had a flashback later about the time when as a kid, I asked her to buy me a piece of fruit, not because I wanted the fruit, but because I wanted some confirmation, some proof that she cared for me. And I asked nicely at first, but then started begging and pleading with desperation, just wanting some proof that I am cared for, something I could cling to when I feel unloved. So that I could, at the darkest times, remind myself 'one time she got me a piece of fruit, so she must care for me'.
She didn't get me the piece of fruit, and got mad at me instead.
I didn't run away because there was no fruit. I ran away because I knew if I didn't, I would get killed or pushed into suicide. And she wanted that for me, she wanted me to die in that house. But I got away and despite all her effort of manipulating people to try and find me and pressure me to go back, to walk back into my death, now she walks past me without realizing that her target was standing so close. Can't kill me anymore, can you. I'm wearing a hat now.
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dumblr · 2 years
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They will break your heart and call you heartless.
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rainystressed247 · 14 days
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Yo eggpire dream i just wanna say sorry for the others... We can be weird at times
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"It's ok. Weirdness is not something to be apologetic of. It makes you unique in a way that others can't compete. While I am not concerned of your behaviour, it seems like my action has caused discomfort in some of you. As a compensation, I have read that headpat relieves stress and bring a sense of comfort."
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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months
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Since everyone seems to love my sex shop stories, here’s another one.
Phone calls were literally a game for us. Not all phone calls, but there was a specific brand of call where guys would creep on us. 90% of the workforce at the sex shops was women. So we’d get dudes calling jacking off or trying to get their jollies from us.
The game: make them hang up. We could have hung up. On a few occasions I did, but for the most part we made a sport out of getting creeps to go flaccid. It really depended on a caller.
You couldn’t just go in for belittling them straight off- some guys wanted that. You had to tailor your strategy to the perv. Overall it was pretty fun and it turned an aspect of the job that could’ve become a major bummer into a fun sport. We’d get excited when the phones rang.
So one day the phone rings. I pick up and it was very clearly a young teen who was putting on a deep voice. I was utterly delighted, I’d never had a crank call before. He said, “I have a dildo emergency! Can you deliver 5 boxes of dildos to my home?!”
It took everything in me not to crack in that moment. It was so funny. It was like three kids had walked through the door in a trench coat and the phrase “dildo emergency” was one of the funniest things I’d ever heard.
But I kept it together. In smooth customer service tones I replied, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear you’re having an emergency, but due to the nature of our product we do require people to come pick it up themselves.”
The caller audibly deflated. Some of the deep voice he was putting on bled away when he said plaintively, “But it’s an emergency…”
“I’m sorry, sir, rules are rules.”
He hung up. I burst out laughing and told my coworker what had happened. She said, “I will buy you lunch if you call back and pretend you can deliver something.”
This sounded like an all around win for me, and the kid hadn’t used anything to block his number. So I called back.
“Hello!” This was before caller ID was common for home phones and so he picked up in his totally normal voice, several octaves higher than before.
“Hello, I’m calling regarding your dildo emergency?”
“Oh! Hem hem,” he coughed, getting his voice back into character for me. “Yes! The emergency!”
“Well I’ve spoken to my manager and it’s your lucky day. We’ll be able to make a delivery after all. Five boxes you said? We can swing it by later, we’ll just need your name, address, and credit card number.”
He was thrown by needing to provide info and was silent for a moment then said, “Well how much is it for five boxes?”
“About five hundred dollars, sir.”
He slipped out of his character voice to exclaim, “Five hundred dollars?! What kind of dildos are they?!”
“Just standard six inches with balls, sir.”
This was his breaking point. He started wheezing with laughter trying to repeat the phrase “six inches with balls” incoherently.
“So your address and card info?”
He hung up and I broke down laughing too. We both got a kick out of it, and I won the game twice in one day.
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Queer people trying to get back at homophobes by being antisemitic: "The Bible also says not mix wool and linen isn't that silly and stupid??"
Anyway here's a funny story I just remembered about Shatnez while I was working on my Regency pieces.....
So when I was a kid my family and I visited some historic location or museum or something. I honestly can't remember all the details because it was that long ago. Anyway, so the place had some Colonial period costumes for us kids to try on, and of course I got all excited because I've always been a period piece nerd. My brothers and I scrambled to the costume bin, and the fabric was nice and heavy and more "authentic" looking than cheap Halloween costumes. I had just put on a coat and was really excited to put on a hat when my dad stopped us. He looked at the label on the coats.
"I'm sorry guys, it's Shatnez", he told us solemnly.
Now, I had learnt about Shatnez in school, but in the days of mass-produced clothes and synthetic fibres and cotton blends, Shatnez seemed like something you only hear about stories, something you don't encounter in real life.
And then....
That one wool coat in some Colonial site just *had* to be blended with some linen.
My brothers and I quickly tore the coats off ourselves and looked at them like they were radioactive.
I hadn't encountered Shatnez since then, and hopefully I'll never have to. I don't really own that many wool garments anyway, in fact, I think the wool coat I thrifted and turned into my Regency coat might be my *only* wool garment. Which....means I should probably get it checked for Shatnez.....hm......
Anyway, lots of Jews, including myself, follow the laws of Shatnez, and a whole bunch of other "silly" laws so maybe think twice before you resort to antisemitism to 'stick it to the homophobes'.
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yukimisouzou-kim · 25 days
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The Shenanigan of MalleYuu #22
Lilia: “What phase are they in right now?” Silver: “They wanna do it but won’t do it phase.” Sebek: “It would’ve been better if it’s not feeling it phase.” Yuu & Malleus: *talk and having fun but too shy to even hold hands* 😳😳😳 Lilia: *jumps from the bushes* “JUST KISS ALREADY!!!” Yuu & Malleus: 😨😨😨 “!!!”
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littlepopatochisp · 19 days
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Funny story from when I went to see a beetlejuice the musical production last August with my girlfriend at the time
It was a REALLY GOOD FUCKING PERFORMANCE and the show was wrapping up, Y’know. It was in the middle of one of the scenes after beetlejuice rides in on the soul worm in his cute little cowboy outfit, and right after beetlejuice started saying his goodbyes, someone in the audience yelled down “CAN WE GET A YEE HAW?”
The everyone on stage froze and the audience lost it. Beetlejuice looked at the audience and was like “…a Yee haw??”
Then everyone started cheering and telling him to do it, so, being the theatre kid that he is, beetlejuice walks down center, poses with Juno’s leg like a rich man would with a cane and shouts “YEE HAW!”
The audience loses it again and starts applauding.
Then later as beetlejuice is taking his leave through the door to the netherworld, he looks back at the audience and goes “AND YEE FUCKING HAW!” Then leaves.
10/10 theatre experience
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xiaq · 7 months
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Storytime: In Which I Accidentally Gave my Husband a Pre-Game Ritual
So B is part of a pickleball league and they have games every Tuesday night. Over a year ago, when he started playing in this league, I jokingly gave him an overly dramatic kiss as he left and told him to "kick their asses, baby" in my best Mae West voice.
The following Tuesday, as he was leaving, he lingered in the doorway. "Is there anything you'd like to say to me before I go?" he asked leadingly. "Ah, darling, of course," I said, throwing myself into his arms. "You must kick their asses, baby." And then it became a bit. Every Tuesday. I walk him to the door. I breathily beseech him to lay waste to his opponent's posteriors. It's great.
Except today, I was working on a demo build for work, completely preoccupied. I was contemplating a beautiful world in which SAP had never been invented. I was not thinking about the fact that it was Tuesday; frankly, I was beyond conceptualizing the days of the week at all.
"I'm leaving!" B shouts from downstairs.
"Yeah, love you," I say. Where he is going? I don't know. All I know is that SAP sucks and if it was a flammable physical object, I'd readily set it on fire.
After a stretch of silence, he comes back up the stairs. He kisses my cheek. "Oh, SAP, huh. That sucks."
"Uh huh."
"Well, I'm leaving."
"Uh huh."
"Darling," he says. "I'm leaving."
"Okay??"
He is now becoming physically distressed and I manage to focus on something that is not my incandescent rage.
"Are you alright?" I ask.
"IT'S TUESDAY," my tirelessly analytical, practical, husband says. "I can't leave until you do the thing and now I'm running late."
And then it clicks.
"Oh! Right. Kick their asses, baby," I say.
He exhales with relief and hustles back down the stairs.
"Thanks! Love you! Bye!"
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