Strange what mags they put out on the shelves, and what mags they keep behind the counter.
A few years ago, I felt I just had to buy a Playboy magazine – that month they did the cover, fold-out, and feature article on Marge Simpson. I figured that was gonna be a collectors item.
The local Barnes and Noble had much raunchier stuff (Hustler, etc.) out on the shelves with the other magazines. But they had Playboy behind the counter, where you had to ask for it. Go figure. (The clerk told me that that particular issue was selling particularly briskly.)
About twenty years ago when book stores were where you had to buy books (and books still existed) I wanted to buy this as a goof birthday present for my brother (who was straight). I was too embarrassed to buy it, so I asked my sister to. She had no problem doing it. Funny thing was she also bought some other, ordinary books one of which was a best seller. As the cashier was ringing her up he first saw the best seller and made a big deal about how he had read it and how great it was. Then he got to the other one, and he didn’t say a word!
BTW even though my brother was straight he was not at all a prude, but very braggadocios about his cocksmanship with the ladies, so he found the book hilarious and would show it to everybody! (overly politically correct critics need not reply…)
As a married woman I had no problem buying “dirty” magazines even though they were behind the counter and had to be asked for. If the covers were wrapped I’d even ask for three or four to look at so I could make my choice. (I do like to comparison shop.)
But as a teenager I embarrassed somebody else. I was working the pharmacy counter at a drugstore and had been told that when asked for something I wasn’t familiar with to say “Can you tell me what it’s used for?” When a young man came to the back of the store and asked for prophylactics—yep, that’s what I said. He turned all shades of red and asked to speak to the pharmacist, who later told me what they were. I remember wondering then why didn’t he just asked for rubbers?
I learned that word from Leisure Suit Larry. Where the clerk offers numerous choices (“Ribbed or smooth? Peppermint or spearmint?”). Then after you make your purchase, several previously-invisible customers pop out behind the aisles and the clerk embarrasses you.
Eons ago a tattoo artist friend had a biker magazine article written about him, complete with pics of some work he had inked on women’s breasts and nether regions. He told me the name of the magazine (along the lines of BikerBitches or HarleyWhores) and I kept an eye out for it. When I finally found a news stand that had it, I told the woman I was buying it for an article.
Embarrassed? I find situations like that humorous.
I bought three gay male porn mags in my early 20s. (I’m female, and this was the early 90s, pre-Interwebs). A friend had started dating a guy who was born outside the US and thus we were trying to explain the difference between circumcised and uncircumcised men’s junk, before the explainee actually saw it.
The explainee needed photos. (She was rather naive and only had sisters, so NO clue.)
Anyway, the cashier commented that I might want to exchange one of the mags for a different one. Better photos.
I knew someone who would always pair his condom purchases with Circus Peanuts candy. I still don’t know why that particular candy, but everyone who knew of this still refers to condoms as “Circus Peanuts”.
Once, at a mall bookstore (late 70s early 80s) when I happened to spot an adult magazine that catered to one on my peculiar “interests”. I didn’t know such a thing existed and I impulsively, (and somewhat furtively) bought it. The clerk was a young guy, close to my age. I would have felt more comfortable if it had been an older person and probably would not have bought it if the clerk was a young woman.
After that I stopped at an adult book store to see if there was more of that kind of material out there but it was a really sleazy, dingy place and it took me out of the mood. I glanced around quickly and left.
Yes, we had a class called “Sex, Literature, and Culture” as a senior elective in 1974. All the students referred to it as the pornography course and the reading included Fanny Hill (not a badly written book, BTW), My Secret Life (The abridged version; talk about making sex dull…*) and The Story of O (The 50 Shades of Grey of the 60s).
One assignment was to buy a porn mag. Now, Schenectady at the time had a bunch of “newstands” (which were really bookie joints). Their selection of magazines and newspapers was meager, but they did have plenty of porn. I walked in nervously, picked out pretty much the first book I saw (IIRC, it was called “Sex and Suds” and consisted of naked women in the shower) and bought it. The clerk didn’t give me any looks or made any comments.**
*The writer’s seduction technique was to grab a servant girl, whisper a bunch of dirty words in her ear, and then screw her. He did this thousands of times, in excruciating detail. You kind of wonder when he had time to write it all down.
I suspect the clerks in those places don’t really care. I used to work at Spencer Gifts and you’d see women get all nervous about buying vibrators.* For us, though, they were just merchandise. We’d tell the women to clean up the “bath” section, or go back to restock the 9-inch models and they treat it like if we told them to restock the t-shirt letters.
***One tried to return one. She said it didn’t work. I put batteries in it, and it operated, so I’m not sure what she meant ;). (And we returned it to the main store for disposal).
I enjoyed reading this thread. One of the true gifts of getting older is not give a crap about what people think. Back when I was under 20 (80s), before the internet, it was a little anxiety inducing to go to the local 7-11 and buy an issue of Penthouse or Playboy. Now when someone says something is embarrassing; my first thought is “why do you care what that person thinks? He has no connection to your life at all.”
I only remember buying things twice – both “College Girls” editions because if I was going to buy an adult magazine retail, I was going to maximize how many photos I got. First time was a liquor store off college campus where the clerk/owner was mainly annoyed that I wanted to use a credit card on a sub-$10 purchase. The second time was at the big news stand in Chicago’s Union Station where the clerk barely gave me or my purchase a glance.
My own retail clerking experience is that I rapidly stopped caring what you were buying. I was in too much of a detached fugue state of retail dronedom to make up mental connections between your clever zucchini and condoms purchase unless one had a bad SKU.
