Gagootz - An Adult Video Store

A man came down the hallway that led to the private viewing booths, past the check-out counter, and out the side exit door. The few customers perusing the videos on display did not notice him.

“Another satisfied customer, Uncle Carmine?” the twenty-something year-old clerk asked the older, much bigger man standing next to him behind the counter.

“Hmmm, probably,” he replied, all the time busily punching in numbers on the electronic cash register. The front door to the shop opened, and a different man entered. He gave a quick glance and a nod to the pair behind the counter as he made a bee-line for the booths in the back.

“Why do you keep ringing up rentals?” the young man questioned. It was his first day on the job, and although his uncle had given him an overview of how The Gagootz operated, the trainee had much to learn.

“For the auditors,” Carmine replied, continuing to enter numbers.

“Yeah, but nobody has taken out a video in over an hour,” the nephew pointed out.

A woman entering the store distracted Carmine, so he did not answer the question.

She hesitated at first, looking around at the video racks and some sexual toys on display behind the check-out counter. Once she had scanned the store, she meandered towards the hallway.

Carmine had kept her eye on her, although he never looked at her directly. There were ten private viewing booths lining the hall; five on each side. Each had a black plastic square in the center, at eye-level, with a white number etched into it. 1-3-5-7-9 to the right. 2-4-6-8-10 on the left. She reached for the first door on her left.

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” Carmine called out as he leaned over the counter. “The viewing machine is broken in there. Try room three, instead.”

The woman seemed startled, but she nodded at the hefty, middle-aged man and went into the booth he had suggested.

After the door closed behind her, Carmine turned to his nephew. “Anytime you see a dame come in that you haven’t seen before, Vinny, always make sure that she uses booth three, four, seven, or eight. It’s very important.”

As if to emphasize the point, the door to booth eight opened, and a woman emerged. Her gait was a bit unsteady, her hair was mussed, and her make-up smeared.

Vinny leaned in towards Carmine and whispered, “Wow. She was in there for a long time.”

Carmine briefly touched his lips with his index finger. The universal sign for shush.