Jobs # 8 (Video Mania)

Somewhere in the course of my toiling around at the liquor store, I figured out that I needed to get a second job. I had been barely paying my bills and rent on my meager salary, and I had plenty of time during the week to make money. I started the good old job search.

By the time I was sixteen, my parents were pretty adamant that I get a job. This was partly because they were divorced, my mother worked all the time, and my sister and I were generally latchkey kids who could do whatever we wanted most of the time. Structure was needed!

At this age, I would walk around to places I liked to go and ask for a job, such as record stores, comic shops, and skateboard joints. Unsurprisingly, there were not many entry-level jobs available. You always had to know someone.

Now I was twenty-six and working part-time in a liquor store, which I hated overall. I decided to branch out and delve into the unknown. After hours of scrolling through Craigslist, I slammed my laptop shut one day and took to the streets. It had always failed me before, but this time I knew that my standards needed to be lowered.

I didn’t have to walk far. I came upon my future gig relatively quickly. There is a video store, one of the last of its kind, called Video Mania, which has been in business for thirty years and remains open today. All I knew about it was that they sold porn and they had a Help Wanted sign. The writer in me figured it would be a good life experience, and boy, was I correct about that. So in I went and applied.

I was hired on the spot.

Anyone who has worked in a video store can tell you it is most certainly a double-edged sword. The best part is that you get to surround yourself with cinema that you actually appreciate and enjoy constantly. The worst edge is having to deal with customers who don’t know what they want and don’t care about your existence. Video Mania, however, was a triple-edged sword. The weirdest edge was having to work the porn room.

At the time, the store actually had a fully stocked front room that resembled any normal video store. Now I’m told that this porn room, which had always been accessible only by a button behind the counter, has actually become the entire store. I haven’t been in there in years, but I could see this being true.

There were usually two people working, one in the porn room and one out front, and you had to switch halfway through the shift. If you worked out front, you were in heaven, mostly getting to watch your favorite movies and buzz creepy-looking dudes (always dudes) into the back.

When you worked in the porn room, you were relegated to no televisions, instead being exposed to Sirius radio that the owner (who lived in South Africa at the time) would pump in from another country. It was always very repetitive house music that made you want to stop existing after about thirty minutes.

The large amount of pornography never bothered me really; it was more the customers. There were plenty of regulars who came in to buy poppers, browse the new releases, and then slink off, saying, “See you tomorrow!” Others would linger and attempt to engage in small talk. I did my best not to appear insanely weirded out, but it was what it was. Except when someone I knew from outside the store would come in. Sort of like seeing your teacher in public, except with insanely inappropriate material everywhere in sight.

My roommates at the time couldn’t believe that I worked there, and they all came to visit me one day. After showing them the whole place, they pretty much just laughed at me and asked what the hell I was doing. Truth be told, I didn’t really know. I liked the freedom of the front, but got pretty uncomfortable in the back.

One day, the mysterious owner showed up out of nowhere. He had come straight from the airport. Apparently, he had cameras everywhere and had been watching us for months. He made sure to berate each of us about taking too many bathroom breaks and not renting enough porn. Then he stormed out, jumped into his Porsche, and peeled out.

At that point, I realized I was done working for scumbags. I had no issue with the store or what they did, but it was time to move on. I walked out the door right after he sped off and haven’t been back since. Onward and downward!