OMGJeremy

Spend The Weekend With XV: Old Man Penis And Me

(With Billy still moving this weekend, XV fills in with this story of terror and degradation like no other)

So yeah, it’s Sunday, right? Not this past Sunday, the Sunday before.

Sundays aren’t much fun in any video game store, but my store is in Merrick, and Merrick is expensive, and that makes Sundays just suck. It goes from dead boring for half an hour and then BAM six mothers trailing astoundingly spoiled children battling fiercely over the store credit value for trade-ins while thier kids shriek MOOOOOOOMMY I WANT MARIO over and over and over and over. Sundays suck.

That Sunday already sucked long before this shit happened I can’t fucking scrub out of my mind. The three hideous bratty children and their surly father had only just left when some maggot in an – I shit you not – designer fannypack decides to throw a wall-shaking shitfit over a form we have to fill out every single time somebody trades a game in.

It takes half an hour to get him out of the store, and even then the place is now just a fucking mess from the three hideous bratty children.

It’s me and it’s my assistant manager Katie, who is very tall, very blonde, very beautiful, and the source of at least three absolute lol moments every single day from random gaming geeks hitting on her in just the best ways imaginable.

Katie looks like her head is about to explode as she begins to get the PlayStation 2 games back up on the shelf and I get to work on the SNES bin, and this guy comes in.

This really old guy in a fisherman hat probably 70, 75, very old man, walks in. Katie asks him if she can help as she’s putting the cases back up on the shelf, and this old guy begins asking her questions about adult video games.

He wants to know if we sell any. We don’t sell any. Katie tells him.

He moves a little closer to her and begins talking about a party he went to the night before where “they put on this… porno. And all the guys gathered around to watch it, because all the guys like that. And some of the girls did, too.”

“Oh dear God” I thought, nervously as I slinked away, trying not show too much interest in this horror show taking place in front of me. In all my years of thinking of elderly men as sweet, kind-hearted people eagerly ready to hand out hard candy at a moments notice, this was rewriting everything I ever knew about the life of an old man.

An old, dirty man.

Katie is trying to get away from him by squirming into herself and suddenly he says, “You have a lot of piercings, honey. Is your tongue pierced?”

She says, “Yes.”

He says, “I bet you have a lot of fun with that. Are your nipples pierced?”

Katie nearly knocks down the wall jerking away from him and says, “I’m not even going to touch that.”

He doesn’t even miss a beat and says, “Well I’D sure like to touch that!”

He then goes on to ask her if her clit is pierced, and she turns and runs, straight for the back room, and this old guy is following her.

So I step right in front of him and I use the “Fuck you, pay me” voice and I say “I’m going to ask you once to get the fuck out of my store and I am calling the cops,” the door to the back room slams behind Katie and the old man goes completely batshit maniac loco crazy, goes blood-red, and begins screaming about a gun.

I don’t remember exactly what it was. “I’ve got a gun” or “Want to see my gun?” or even “I will shoot you with my gun” I don’t know, I heard ‘gun’ and this old man in front of me is lifting the front of his shirt and reaching into his belt and time just goes numb because I am about to get shot to death by some old fucking pervert in a video game store and that’s really not how I imagined I would go.

But he doesn’t pull out a gun.

He pulls out his cock.

He didn’t ‘pull it out’ so much as ‘aggressively whip it out and brandish it at me like a broken bottle.’ Everything in the world just sort of stopped. My brain says, “Look, it is old man penis. Let us look away in horror now.” But I couldn’t. All my critical motion capacity had just overloaded and shorted out all at once. I am staring at old man cock, completely frozen. The old man then breaks for the door while I continue to barely understand what has happened. I think to myself, “Maybe I should go after him,” which is then quickly replaced with “OH GOD WHAT JUST HAPPENED”. The next thing I know there’s this blue uniform in my face and a badge asking me if I could describe the perpetrator. Through my stupor I manage to say, “He was really veiny.”

And God, good Christ he was veiny. It was like looking at a birch tree trunk sprouting out of a white, gnarled shrub that someone had drawn all over with blue magic markers. I suddenly regret that this is the only real details that I remember about the whole encounter. A report is taken, the uniform leaves, and I am left with a newly broken mind.

There is no happy ending to this story.

Katie went home and I stayed to finish my shift in the most glazed over state I have ever found myself in. It didn’t help that twenty minutes after I was visually assaulted with old man cock, the lady with the Betty Boop voice and loud horrible children came in to tear my brains out over used game prices. Three hours later I went home.

And cried.

Don’t work in retail, kids. No one deserves to have to see the vision of a veiny, old cock every time you lay down to go to sleep. Not like me.