Oh god, I think I overdid it. I just realized how long my document is, and now I’m getting concerned. Not like I wasn’t before, but…I don’t know, I just hope I’m not overdoing anything here. Maybe I’m overemphasizing certain scenes…but I can’t just remove them. I don’t even know why I’m making such a huge deal out of this…
This is…crazy. This is so crazy and I’m getting more and more uncertain about this…
UGH, this feels so weird. I like to think I’m close to finishing this, but then how in the FREAKING world am I suppose to end this?? I’m probably overthinking this too but I just don’t know how to end this…
The uncertainty is killing me…
2 notes
·
View notes
I think what bothers me about the “read another book” shorthand argument for getting over A Certain Wizard Series is that it feels reductive. Side note to say that I agree that JKR and her horrific politics deserve no more monetary support or public platform, and that the upcoming deeply antisemitic video game should not even be pirated. I’m more speaking on a personal private internal level.
“Read another book!” I literally cannot. I can’t go back in time to being eight years old and discovering the fantasy genre for the first time—and discovering that I wanted to be a writer, if books could be like this—and drop something different into my own lap. I can’t be eleven and waiting for my letter and go back to tell myself it isn’t happening and have I tried this series instead? I can’t be a teenager ecstatic that my friend bought me a house tie for the midnight release of the final book, and tell myself to go see a movie with my friends instead. I can’t take out the trivia and the music and the tears of joy. I can’t remove the inside jokes and long-lasting friendships based on a shared interest.
I CAN move forward and not give support or platform to story or creator (and auxiliaries). I can make different choices in the future. But I can’t change my past. And I don’t always know what to do with this deep-seated grief over losing a truly fundamental piece of myself and my history to bigotry and increased political violence. It’s my grief. I’ll carry it and deal with it, quietly and privately. Just don’t tell me to read a different book. I can’t.
7 notes
·
View notes
Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.
When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.
When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.
In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.
If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.
“Could I get a bag….?”
There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.
I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.
The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.
The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”
“There’s no bags?”
“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.
He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”
When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.
“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”
I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.
If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".
46K notes
·
View notes