How to Purchase Previously Owned Porn: A Primer

50’s Backdoor Bitch

I always dread the first Friday of the month. “First Fridays”, as my buddy Rachael calls them, are very busy days at the junk shop. She says it’s because this is the day people get their public assistance checks. Maybe this is true, maybe it isn’t. If it is, I can tell you what the taxpayers’ money was outlaid on in my little corner of Greenpoint today: PORN.


Before I continue:

  1. It is not the purpose of this post to malign people who receive public assistance. A person may lack money, but that does not mean he (or she) lacks integrity, intelligence or worth. More often than not all the previous qualities render a person poor. I speak from experience.
  2. It is not the purpose of this post to malign people who spend their public assistance on porn. Everyone deserves a diversion from the misery of their daily life. Especially those in the throes of poverty. Let them eat c*m— or better yet— watch someone else eat it for them. That sticky substance is catharsis for many a down-trodden person. “What’s that strange taste in my mouth?” you ask. It’s freedom. Spit or swallow. The decision is yours to make. The good ol’ U.S. of A. is a democracy after all.
  3. Rather, it is the purpose of this post to establish proper etiquette for buying porn, as it became very manifest today that such ground rules need to be set. Here they are.

Rule #1: Do not buy your porn from a thrift store.

Rule #2: If you find yourself in the position of having to purchase porn from a thrift store, don’t be an asshole.

The rest of this post will explore Rule #2.

Porno Pointer A

Any attempt to be sly about perusing porn is a waste of effort.

Today I finally commandeered more space to put out craft supplies and bargain bags of earrings. Immediately to my left was a chap foraging through a sizable container of DVDs. Though a recent addition to the store, we all knew what it contained:

  1. Four or five DVDs of “mainstream” movies
  2. A lot of porn, most of which involved inserting large objects up a woman’s rectum

As I was organizing this man hunched over this cache of affordable and no-strings-attached female companionship like a miser. He thought I would think that cinematic flicks such as The Fugitive (which was in said container) were the target of his dogged search. He was wrong. His attempt at subterfuge was pathetic.

This man was a picky poonhound. After much consideration Black-eyed Pees did not make the cut. I immediately brought this to my coworker’s attention. We laughed our asses off. Which brings me to the next titulation tip…

Porno Pointer B

Those of you who are thinking:

Gee, I bet these folks see people come in and buy this stuff all the time. If I want to buy Super-sized Black Booty Butt Plungers #87, they won’t think anything of it. This is normal, right?


Speaking as someone who has gone through boxes purchased at storage facility auctions, I have had plenty of moments when I find myself saying, “Ewwwww, GROSS.” You get used to finding the odd butt plug, cock ring or stacks of Juggs magazines. And worse.

You do NOT, however, get used to seeing a woman with a mop handle shoved up her nether-regions. Consider yourself warned because…

Porno Pointer C

We will talk about you behind your back. Your sexual eccentricities are our entertainment. Learn to live with this fact or:

  • acquire some social skills and get a girlfriend
  • buy porn made by companies who do not treat women like garbage
  • get therapy
  • all of the above

Porno Pointer D

Perversion has a price. Asking $5.00 for a gently used copy of Let’s Get Our Orgy On or Big Black Women with Little White Chicks is not at all unreasonable. What IS unreasonable is trying to haggle the price down because “other video stores sell these types of movies for $2.00.”

The previous sentence speaks volumes about your life(style). It is not a very flattering portrait.

Porno Pointer DD

Further attempts to justify a lower price will not work. What’s more, approaching the solitary female employee of the store with the hope of exploiting her lack of adult entertainment expertise might backfire. Which brings me to…

Porno Pointer E

Do not insult Miss Heather

What we’ve got here is… failure to communicate. Some men you just can’t reach. So you get what we had here last week today, which is the way he wants it… well, he gets it.

Miss H: Yes, I am aware these movies are of inferior quality. Jenna Jameson, they are not.

Pornophile: These movies are nothing more than footage culled from other movies.

Miss H: Yes, I know what “loops” are. I recently read Jenna Jameson’s biography, you should read it.

Pornophile: Did you learn anything from it?

Miss H: I was merely stating that it was interesting book. You should read it. You might learn something. (And being a cocksucker isn’t one of them, this dude has clearly mastered that art already . — Ed. Note)

*Chirp, chirp*

After taking ten seconds to deduce that he had been insulted by a broad, this dude transgressed…

Porno Pointer F

Appealing to another store employee in order to secure a low(er) price for porn is a futile endeavor. In the above case study this sad attempt at duplicity backfired. Big time. The price went up: $16.00.

And this chap tendered it. He even had the temerity to ask for a bag to conceal his salacious purchases. Had I been alone I would have told him we had none. Asshole.

After this episode I ventured out to forage lunch-time vittles. I was hungry. I was pissed. I needed to vent. So, as I was walking along McGuinness Boulevard with my newly acquired foodstuffs, I called my husband.

Miss H: …Remember that Hare Krishna looking dude we saw on the G train last weekend? The guy with the pants you liked?

Husband: Yes.

Miss H: That motherfucker tried to stiff me! He tried to tell me what loops were versus full length features. Like I don’t know the difference.

Husband: That was dumb.

Miss H: Yes it was. Who the fuck does this dude think he is? I’m not fucking stupid, you know. Give me a fucking break!

It was at this moment I noticed there was a woman walking behind me. A pregnant woman. A pregnant and very horrified woman. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

Let’s review:

  1. I was walking down McGuinness Boulevard shouting into a cell phone.
  2. I was walking down McGuinness Boulevard shouting into a cell phone while clad in a pair of hip-hugging stretch pants (rolled up to the knee), a yellow tank top with a black bra underneath (need to do laundry) and large sunglasses. My hair is currently blond. VERY BLOND. Long story— let’s just say that I recently had an epiphany: if Britney Spears can (still) dress like Britney Spears, so can I.
  3. I was shouting about someone trying to “stiff me”.
  4. Now subtract the previous telephonic exchange from my (previous and lengthy) context.

I am not so egotistical to think I am of professional porn caliber. I am not. Never was. Greenpoint has more, uh, LAX standards for such a sinecure. I know this because I have found “home grown” porn strewn on my block. You could probably stuff a sow in a negligee and get takers. Yes, it’s that’s bad.

When I got back to work, lunch in hand, my coworker was busy helping another customer. This man was— get this— BUYING PORN.




NEXT WEEK: Customers say the darnedest things. AKA; Don’t try to understand ’em, just rope, throw and brand ’em.

Miss Heather


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