Customer: “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Me: “No.”
Customer: “You’re single?! OMG why?!”
Me:
Fenoli. Marjorie Fenoli.
Leather and Biglywear
Who says I’m not patriotic?
Advertorial
Considering that I have the Montrose Forge listed on my profile as a place of employment, it’s weird that Facebook keeps asking if I’d like to write a review of it.
“Some of the customers are jerks, but the pay’s not bad, and I get to spank people. 4/5, will definitely work my next shift.”
Initiation and Returns
Tonight, I had to tell a customer that I would not sniff his leg.
Who has boundaries? That’s right, this guy has boundaries.
And by “Beard,” I mean “Beard.”
This is the excerpt for your very first post.
Dear pervy customer:
It’s beard oil. Beard. Oil. That is not a euphemism. It’s just oil. For your beard. It has no “additional effects.” I promise it’s really beard oil.
I will pay you not to buy the beard oil.
Multipurpose Identities
I bought this pretentious desk sign years ago but could never find the right place for it. Turns out, it makes a fabulous paper towel dispenser.
Welcome to the Forge. All Judgements Are Final.
Customer: “I’m a freak. You like freaks? Because I’m a freak. In bed, I mean. Not, like, in real life. I’m not going to stalk you or anything.”
[awkward silence]
Be still, my heart.
Marjorie's Forgeries 