You and your gang of clueless 18-year-olds came into the dildo store and shot me some dirty looks when I asked to see your IDs. I really felt like we had a connection. Maybe it was the enviable innocence of college freshmen who have never seen a bong before, or the condescending attitude of Macalester girls who are too snobby to communicate with a plastic dick salesman, but something about our encounter convinced me that I'd really like to fuck you. All of you. Together. On the counter. I didn't want to write anything, but you changed my mind when you all left without buying anything after browsing for an hour. Next time, just be up front with me and I'll lock the door.
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