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Young Entrepeneur

Posted by: Age: 47 Posted on: 0 comments
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What inspired me to write was one of my old clients got in touch with me to let me know she was newly divorced and interested in getting together for old times sake. I politely declined, now I'm one of those folks who pays for dirty jobs, and is unwilling to be seen doing something unseemly, but there was a time.


I was brought up on the wrong side of the tracks, but I got a better education in entrepreneurship on the streets, in my teen years, than I did in graduate business school. I started as a young teen shovelling and mowing lawns in the neighbourhood, as I worked to grow my business I quickly learned that people with money, will pay a lot not to get there hands dirty, or be seen as doing something unseemly. I had unlimited sex and masturbation opportunities as a teenager because of it.

One of my first clients was a plaza, with a truck stop next door. They had parking lots those were near our house. Part of the plaza was a dive bar, an adult store, and a Korean restaurant. Adjacent to the plaza was a truck stop and a massage parlour. I mowed the lawn at these places. I was paid great money, and it was all under the table. The reason none of the reputable lawn care companies wanted the work, was the job entailed policing the parking lots. Because of the nature of the places, used condoms and plastic jugs filled with pee were among the choicest of finds.

I scavenged some used Barrels and painted them up brightly with sayings like give a hoot don't pollute, (a big public service message at the time). It cut the job from ten hours a week to about two. But the pay was kept the same. Even dirty people will be clean it is just as easy to do. The owner wanted to pay me more, so he had me carry out trash every day, at age 13 between all my customers I was making $150 under the table a week. That was a lot in the early 80s, especially for a kid working maybe 10 hours a week at most.

That's where it started to get interesting. The adult store once a month would have a huge bag of what felt like magazines. My curiosity got the best of me I opened the bag and there were dozens of sex magazines with the cover torn off. I learned later that they were out of date, and the shop owner was reimbursed for what they did not sell. Over the next week or two I must have jacked off a hundred times. I was so raw I had to give it a rest for a few days.

This was long before the internet. Batamax tapes, as they called them, were coming on the scene, but most of the porn was magazines, or 8mm film or what they called Super 8, which had sound. The Bata tapes were like first generation DVDs they sold for over $100 a copy, but had nearly an hour of content as compared to less than 5 minutes on most film reels unless multiples were spliced together.

The sex shop owner by the time I was 15 had me mopping out the film preview booths. You could rent a booth to see the video before forking out hard earned money. That was gross, but it doubled my pay, and took only 20 min a day. I did these early in the morning when the shop was closed. Paper towel, dispensers and sanitary wipes, both eliminated most of the work and classed up the joint. My parents thought I was cleaning the restraint next door for an hour each day. In fact, I was jerking off to the latest porn.

Though cheap, the film movies were getting impossible to get from distributors. However, Beta players were expensive. Sales in the store were down. The owner said he would have to cut my hours. I suggested he offer to buy back films with a discount on videos. That led to his biggest year in history. He paid me a $500 bonus a thank you for the idea. Once folks started seeing video there was no turning back. Margins on Betas were better than films, even with the discount.

People were turning in reels of film. Thinking they were trading $1 to get $10 in the reality it was the other way around. As it turned out, this turned up another opportunity.

There was a collectors market for vintage porn, or what were called private reels. One of the salesmen bought all the returned reels and rented me a room in the basement of the Korean Restaurant to sort through them. He gave me lists of titles he wanted, and any private reels.

He paid me commission. I got so I could do it in less than a minute per reel. I added to the list the salesman had given me, because of my familiarity of what would sell. He commissioned me on everything I set aside. Every so often I would come across a title unfamiliar to me and I would screen it completely usually jacking off. I think I jacked off at least twice day for over a year sorting through porn.

People would turn in home movies. I had to screen all of those, but it was worth it. I was paid $100, for each private porn full reel. It was weird some reels had home movies of vacations interspersed with smut; I composed out take reels of the home porn. It was worth the time. I had a speed scanner made short work of the reviews, but I screened every film as a finished it. I also screened every industry film I was not familiar with. I suspect I was the foremost authority of vintage and private stock porn at the time, at age 16. I did not tell my family or friends what I did; I knew the whole deal would blow up if people knew. The Korean family thought I was some sweat shop victim, and took pity on me bringing me food, more than enough to bring home. My parents thought I was cleaning the kitchen for them in exchange for food, when actually I was sorting porn.

About this time I started hiring other guys to do most of my lawn mowing and shovelling. I collected for the services. I had business card it read 'Dirty jobs done dirt cheep, we will do almost anything'. In fact I was not cheep most of the time. I had a pick up truck and several mowers. If it was skut work I would hire it done, but if there were a potential angle, I would do it myself. I made a name of myself of cleaning out attacks and garages and basements. Sometimes I priced stuff to go in their yard sale. Some times they just gave me stuff I had an interest in, and sometimes they just paid me to take everything away. These were usually the best, because I knew where all the second hand stores and antique shops where. I got to know what stuff was worth. I made over $10,000 cleaning out one attic.

This was also the entree to another branch of the business: home delivery of porn and sex toys. People on the rich side of town could not be seen going into a sex shop. I got good at reading people. If I thought they might be interested in home delivery. I would let it slip that they seem sophisticated, and please don't be offended, I never offer this to any one, but you seem the type, please don't say anything to anyone, but I could discreetly deliver adult store products to there home.

There was mail order in those days, but internet was non-existent and mail order would leave a paper trail for payment. In reality about 60% of my clients got that pitch and nearly all of them took advantage of the new service.

I had access to the trade catalogues. I blocked out the dealer pricing and basically took orders every time I collected for other services. These sales calls were some of the sexiest experiences, in my life. I went from selling on commission, to paying the store owner a cut of my sales, to eventually selling more than him, and buying direct from distributors, if I wanted to for high end items he would not stock.

I would sit down with guys and sell them a Bata machine and a movie every other month. They liked it that they could tell me what they would like to see and I could make a recommendation. Even having a Beta player back then carried a stigma, because most of the Beta movies were porn . If I was meeting with the lady of the house alone, that is when it really got interesting. They would ask my recommendation, and I would recommend the most expensive latest gadget available. I very rarely failed to sell what I recommended. Based on repeat sales apparently my recommendations found favor. When I turned 18 I had a business throwing off over 100K most of it under the table. I tried running it from collage and it was more then I could handle. I basically made it a seasonal business.

My first winter break there was a pent up demand for the discrete delivery. Word was out in close circles this service was available. Whether it was the forbidden fruit, or my physique or just the nature of the transaction, I was asked to demonstrate new sex toys more than once.

I'm no dummy their after that I would offer a private demonstration to all my most sexy clients. Sometimes we got naked and did things outside the scope of this site; sometimes I would stay clothed and take them to orgasm as many times as time allotted, or until they said 'when'. Sometimes I would get a 'tip' other times I would get masturbation services in kind. I had dozens women who I would call from college before a break. I would take orders and deliver them on break. Some days I would cum as many as six times while making deliveries. The best part is I called the shots. I offered my demonstration services to only my hottest clients; I guess I was a male prostitute of sorts. But there was never any understanding that it was sex for money. It was always ancillary to the sale of product. At least that is how I reasoned it in my head. After my senior year, the internet was becoming available and I was not about to mow laws and move snow all my life. I sold my business to the sex shop owner I got enough to pay for grad school.



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