Contrary to popular perception, retail is more that just slouching behind a register and letting the merchandise sell itself. You have to have extensive product knowledge and an instinctive, welcoming presence, but also be fully aware that weird shit is going to happen in your store, and that you will be expected to deal with it while coolly maintaining a steadfast facade of cordial service.
So when a customer decided to try on a metal cock ring and five minutes later leaned out of the dressing room and said, “Um… it’s stuck…” I was right there with a calm, collected disposition and sample packets of water-based lube for him to apply (on his own) in order to slip (almost) painlessly from the situation into which he had (literally) shoved himself, because I am a retail employee, and I am prepared.
And after my shift, as I was pulling out of the Ripcord parking lot, a drag queen jumped in front of my car and yanked up her skirt to show me her tuck while screaming, “WHITE BOY!! I LOVE YOU, WHITE BOY!!”
I was… not prepared for that. But it’s nice to feel appreciated.
Marjorie's Forgeries 
When I worked retail (at a mall kiosk which sold body jewelry, but did not do piercings), the most interesting thing to happen to me was when a couple teenage boys wanted me to pierce their ears and I told them I couldn’t. They stood there for five minutes bugging me to pierce their ears, which I kept insisting I could not physically do because a) illegal as hell and b) I didn’t have any needles. “Well, just use the thing! You know, the gun!”
If I had a gun I would have shot them with it.
I never had any drag queens flash me. My envy is boundless.
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