Recently learning Herman Munster is alive and well and selling real estate, reminded me of one of the many jobs I had.

I said job I had, not gave. sheesh No, not had as in got, either. Remember, I’m a woman – I give them I don’t …oh, never mind.

Where was I? Oh, yeah.. jobs.

The kind you get paid for.

Oh ferfuckssake.

I was fairly young at the time I went to work for this insurance company. My boss was named Fred Krueger. I could not making this up if I tried, people. To separate himself from Freddy Krueger The Slasher, he insisted we called him Fred. Just Fred Krueger.

Yeah, that worked well. Calling him Fred totally made me forget his name WAS IDENTICAL TO THE INFAMOUS SLASHER FLICK DUDE.

It’s only 20 years later, I have a memory like Swiss cheese (the whole family does, actually), I couldn’t tell you what I had for breakfast any day last week, but this I remember.

Isn’t Fred short for Frederick? Why the fuck not just go with Rick? I can tell you I sure as shit wouldn’t be writing this post now if he had.

His secretary was named Donna Mills. I kid you not. If you know who that actress is, you’ve just dated yourself. Like I just did. But if anyone asks, I’m 27. She wasn’t Donna Mills the actress, but she looked enough like her that she often used it to her advantage. I was kind of an assistant to her.

Among my more interesting duties they had me rolling joints and returning porn videos. I’m not lying folks. Welcome to my crazy world.

The rolling of joints I didn’t mind so much. But I did not care for returning the porn videos. Like I said, this was a looong time ago. I was very young at the time (in my teens), somewhat shy and insecure. I hadn’t yet grown the pair of brass balls I now have.

The video porn store, well known and long-standing in there here parts (I’m sure there’s a joke in there somewhere), doubles as a strip joint. I didn’t know this strip joint also had a porn and sex toy store attached, but with a different entrance. In my proper little first-office-job outfit I walked into the strip joint lobby only to see the doorman getting a blow job (hey, we did get around to it after all!) from a hooker.

I told him I wanted to return a video. My brass nuggets must have already existed to some extent at this point as evidenced by the fact I didn’t turn and walk out when confronted with a stranger getting a blow job from a hooker. Nope, not me. I wasn’t going to let that deter my mission.

Neither snow nor rain nor gloom of hooker giving a blow job would deter me from returning that porn video.

He snapped that the porn store was next door, quite obviously irritated by the interruption (he must’ve been having trouble completing his own mission).

Great. Now I have to walk out one door, down the sidewalk in broad daylight, and into ANOTHER door in this well-known strip club/porn store. The whole time I’m cringing someone I know will pass through the crowded intersection and see me.

Remember  – this wasn’t the blogger you know me as today – this was a young blogger in the making. Today, I’d be trying to get a look inside the strip joint, perusing the toy store and porn sections for two hours, and taking as many pictures as I could get away with just so I could come back and tell you all about it. Well, that and to watch a good porn or two.

Speaking of giving head, here are some great tips: 10 Tips For Giving Head. You’re welcome.

Believe it or not, that wasn’t even the strangest thing that happened in the short time I worked there.

One evening Donna invited me over for dinner with her and her husband. We were partying and I had WAAY too much to drink (you all are about to find out one of the many reasons I no longer drink)… She goes to the bathroom and her husband hits on me! I’m three sheets to the wind, but still “present” enough to decline and slur something about how she’s my friend. She comes out of the bathroom, and I go into the kitchen and tell her he just hit on me.

She seems nonplussed by the fact her husband just hit on me. I didn’t think she’d heard me so I repeated myself. Still nothing from her other than a mumbled ‘That’s ok.”

Remember – I’m young and very naive. Even after I sobered up the next day, I think it still took me a very long time to figure out what was going on here. In case you are young and clueless like I was: They were looking for a threesome.

She then makes a play for me. WTF??! I’m totally confused at this point, but way too wasted to drive home.

They said I could stay the night.

Uh, yeah, I think I got that part. No thanks.

To each his own, but a threesome isn’t something I was interested in. Not with two gals and a guy. Maybe two guys and me.  Oh, what? Nevermind.

They finally got that I wasn’t interested, going to be interested, or staying the night and left me alone to sober up a bit. Eventually, I drove home.

Stranger still, me and my Swiss cheese memory remember all of this when I was three sheets to the wind, but I don’t remember the following Monday at work and how weird the atmosphere must have been. I have a vague memory of her apologizing to me, but I’m not entirely sure what she said it was for.