“You have two weeks, then you have to find a job.” I had just arrived home from all the schooling I could afford in Vincennes, Indiana, at a university I chose after meeting a boy on the Internet who attended. Back in central Pennsylvania, my mother was giving me an ultimatum. It was February 2003.

Up to this point, my work experience was limited to the occasional babysitting gig and a brief stint as one of those people who calls during dinnertime to find out who you’re voting for. It had been years since I had performed either. I knew this much: I loved my weird-colored hair; I hated the mall; and I had always been fascinated with porn.

Flash to six months later, and I’m employed at Excitement Video, where I’m offered the position of assistant manager. Merely getting out of the house for 40-plus hours a week has diminished my waistline, and being the only feminine entity in the local porn store means nearly every patron, attractive or not, will eventually hit on me. My ego is on the rise.

With all the VHS I could rent and Adult Video News now mandatory reading, I couldn’t help but develop an even bigger interest in the product I was pushing. It was my job to know what Tera Patrick’s new movie was called or when Strap-On Sally Volume 22 was being released. Eventually, I was among the impatient consumers waiting for Belladonna’s new series.

Watching these performers do what they do best was intoxicating. I found myself drawn to the few-and-far-between edgy girls. They had darker hair, modest breasts, thicker legs and a massive following of people who desired them. These women seemed to actually enjoy what they were doing. I could learn a thing or two.

Soon, I decided there was a career to be had here. So when I had to choose between returning to my hometown in New York and making a life as the manager of an increasingly successful sex shop, I said goodbye to my long-term boyfriend and stood my ground. He never watched porn with me, anyway.

With a new beau, open-minded and trusting, it was truly time to execute the lessons I’d learned from my beautiful, naked heroes. Comfortable in my own skin, fully aware I was attractive and armed with the carnal knowledge I had been gathering for years, I finally began to love sex.

Flash to 2007. I’m running three stores and orchestrating regular ladies nights, answering questions from shy and insecure women who want to spice things up. I’m telling them where to find their G-spot and insisting they tell him how they like it. I’m opening the floor to taboo topics and why, if they’re going to try anal sex, they should never, ever use a numbing cream.

Flash to present day. I’m continuing my path in the adult industry here in Las Vegas. The Déjà vu Love Boutique has given me a home where I can continue to do what I love: promote the tools of the trade, answer the questions that aren’t as strange as you fear and never stop learning.