In my twenties, just out of college and living in a new state, the first job I could get was a part-time gig at Victoria's Secret. When I told the men I met where I worked you could see the wheels turning in their heads. They were no doubt envisioning a sales floor littered with scantily clad supermodels engaged in endless pillow fights while I, in a negligee, politely rang up purchases.
It was by no means like that. In truth, it was a lot like any other retail job, but with more potential for things to get weird.