One of the worst things that has ever happened to me was being recognized and having my name shouted out in the middle of a porno store. If you have never been in a smut hut there is a certain amount of unspoken etiquette that needs to be followed. Always look down or at the wall. Never make eye contact with anyone. Don't shout anyone's name out. And use the buddy system. Being alone in a porno store is a no-no. You'll find yourself drowning in movie covers of 40 year old sluts pretending to be hot and naughty babysitters, if the feelings of loneliness and being pathetic don't kill you first.
So right after my 18th birthday my friends decided to take me to the nearest porno store. Unfortunately the closest store was in fucking Fort Dodge, Iowa. If Iowa was a person, Fort Dodge would probably be the person's asshole. It's dirty, small and cramped, and filled with shit heads. So you can imagine what a porno store in the asshole of Iowa would be like. Seventy-five dollars to buy a movie and they couldn't use five dollars of that to buy a mop. It was also one of those places that RENTED porn. You have to be some kind of freak with a life supply of latex gloves to want to mess with a rented porno DVD.
So we walk into the store and begin to laugh at the movies. I am facing the back wall with my rear end pointing toward the front door. I am debating over which movie would be funnier, Zorho, The Blair Wench Project, or Anal Princess Diaries (all are actual pornos by the way) when I hear that massive scream behind me. "CASEY HUFF, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"
I froze. Because no one wants to be recognized in a porno store. It's just one of those things that is bound to stop time itself and end the universe. I just stood there in shock. I slowly turn my head and see one of my friend's dads...who just also happened to be a pastor. Apparently he had seen my very recognizable truck outside of the front door and come in to see what was going on.
This leads me to another rule of going into your local adult book store, make your friends drive or park a few blocks away. Because when your 1989 blue Ford truck is the only one in town with a Goonies bumper sticker, you are pretty much screwed when you park it in front of any place of ill repute, like a porn shop, a brothel, or a Younkers.
What made matters worse was that I also knew the cashier of said porno shop. The guy was gay and related to my neighbors down the street. The guy sees the exchange between me and the reverend and walks over to me and says to the pastor, "Chill out guy, he's 18 and he's getting a birthday present!" He then takes a big black dildo, still in the package thank god, and places it in my hand with a smirk on his face.
I, still stunned, say nothing, just turn back to the movies, and wonder if Extreme Teens 28 is better or worse then Extreme Teens 19. I assumed my friend's dad just walked away because an eon later, when I finally looked back toward the door, he was gone. Leaving me with a possible shit in my pants and a dildo in my hands. I gathered up my friends and as we were leaving the gay clerk decided to hit on one of my friends. I was just relieved that I was not the one getting hit on by the gay guy whose main source of income involved handling semen soaked rental DVDs of horny housewives. My experience of being hit on by a gay person would not happen for a few more years, but that is a story for another day.
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