Video Blog~ Hello, My Name Is...

EDIT:

This is Peter Hill (circa 90's) btw, just in case you're curious.

Bookstore Chronicles: Countdown to Xmas #4

Most of my job involves answering people's questions. Some of the questions are good, some are funny, some are stupid, and some are exhausting.

Here are a few of the most common ones:

"Where are the bathrooms?"

Ok. I can't really fault people for asking where the bathrooms are. I've had to do it in restaurants...I don't like wandering aimlessly past people sitting down to dinner. They all know you're up for a pee. And for some reason that makes me uncomfortable.

But I swear sometimes I just get tired of answering. I'd love to just say "Under the sign that says 'Restrooms.'"




"I don't know. Where am I?" [in response to us asking if they have a store membership card]

This one I DO have a problem with. How do you not know where you are??? Did you walk into the store with your eyes closed? Shouldn't the fact that you're surrounded by books be a massive clue?

The perfect gift for these people? Watch the video.



You'd be surprised at just how many people ask this question. Especially when they whip out their checkbooks. You can see them covertly trying to glimpse the name of the store on something. And if they do know where they are, they're looking around to see how to spell it. And they still spell it wrong anyway.


"Do you work here?"

This question is usually asked when I'm wearing my nametag (that has the store name printed boldly on it), carrying a huge pile of books, or using a scanner to organize a section with books scattered all around me. Sweaty, dusty, hair in my eyes, kneeling on the floor...

I'm so tempted to say 'Nope' and continue scanning. Just to see what they'd do.

"Can I check out here?" [strolling up to Customer Service]

Once again, I can't really fault people for not knowing we can't check them out there. It's not like we have any signs saying "No Registers". I usually tell people jokingly, "If there's no line, it's too good to be true."

I do feel a bit like a flight attendant though. My reply is always, "There are no registers here, but you can check out at either end of the store," whilst simultaneously pointing to either end of the store. Trust me, if you don't do the hand gestures, they just look at you with a blank stare. I almost poked my co-worker K in the eye doing this the other day.

"Kyna, where's K?"

"Um...she had to run over to the drugstore to buy an eyepatch. Sorry."

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!




I DO fault people for getting an attitude with us because we don't have registers at Customer Service. 75% the people are very nice about it and go on their merry way. The other %25 will literally ask, "Why not?" with an angry glare.

This last week of shopping before Christmas has been the worst in terms of attitudes. I'm a veteran retail worker, so I expect it. But when it comes, you're still shocked at how horrible people can be to each other.

Saturday, I wrote a blog about it being the biggest shopping day of the year. And it WAS. Can't reveal how much money we made obviously, but I will say that it was a record for the store. We've been open for just about 3 years, and in all that time we've never made more money in a single day. It was INSANE.

Along with the sales, came the shenanigans.

There were TWO big, nasty messes to clean up in the men's bathroom that day.

If you're eating breakfast, you may want to put down that bagel for a second or continue reading this post later on.

Someone either had the stomach flu really bad, or was hungover like a mofo. I'm betting on the second one.

It looked like the possessed girl from 'The Exorcist' paid us a visit.



Like someone had puked whilst pirouetting. It was a fountain of vomit. Walls, floor, toilet...it even was oozing into other stalls.

The clean-up job required two of our male employees to roll up their sleeves. They managed to clean up the mess, but the smell lingered. The morning cleaning ladies had to bleach everything the next day. I can't believe no one quit over that.

Later on that same day, I was helping customers when the boyfriend of one of my co-workers came up to me and said "Um, just letting you know there's blood in the bathroom."

Seriously. As soon as I was done with the customers, I had to go hunt down male employees again to go check it out. One of them refused to go because it involved blood.

One of our newbies volunteered to check it out (big kudos to him) and clean it up. He came out afterwards and said that it looked as though someone had cut their hand really badly, and flicked it all over the wall and urinals.

Ok, gross stuff over. You can pick up your bagel again. If you have any appetite left.



I served a few 'interesting' customers.

One old guy came up and I helped him out with his question with no problems. Sometimes I dread helping old people (I know, I'm a doucheface) because they don't know what they're looking for half the time and it takes forever. (I'm a DOUCHEFACE, I know, I know!)

As he was about to walk away, he turned and said, "Oh, I have one more question..."

Of course he did. "Yes?"

"Have you sold a lot of the new George Bush book?"




"Yes, we've sold a ton of them. It's very popular."

"You still have some?" he asked. "A lot of places have sold out."

"Yep, we still have some. We sold out a couple of times ourselves, but we have them now."

He looked as though he expected me to start gushing over it. "Have you read it?"

Sigh."No, I haven't."

"Why? You're probably just not into good leadership."

I usually keep my political opinions to myself. Politics, religion, war...I never discuss these subjects with customers. You're not going to change anyone's opinions, and it'll probably escalate into a brawl.

I had to supress the urge to reply "Good leadership?? Are we still talking about George W. Bush here?"




Instead I replied, "Well, I do appreciate good leadership. But I'm Canadian, and I spent most of W's presidency in Canada." I was trying to divert the conversation. Usually when I bring up Canada, people ask, "How did you end up here?", and so on, until we're talking about hockey or maple syrup or something.

Old Man Bush wouldn't be diverted. "Well, if you want to read about a REAL leader, you'd read this book. EXCELLENT writing. Great man. You should read it."

My co-worker C kept walking past and she had the funniest smirk on her face because she was listening.

"Like I said, I'm Canadian..."

C remarked to me later on that she'd never heard me pull the Canadian card so many times in one conversation. I just couldn't handle the Bush-love any longer than I had to endure it.

At least the guy wasn't a jerk or anything. I got one of those the next day.

At my store, we have a feature where you can go on the website, see if your local store has a copy of it, and put in an online reservation for it. We then put your name on the book, and put it on hold.

The other night I got a couple of online reservations from the same person for some kid's books. I went to search them down pretty much immediately after they popped up on the screen.

I go into the children's department and I pick out one of the books...and I start to sense someone quietly following me. Ninja-like. He didn't make a move to talk to me...he kind of just inched closer to where I was. I could see all this out of the corner of my eye.

I find the other book, and finally I turn around and there's this short, bald, beady-eyed man standing RIGHT behind me.

"Yes?" I said. "Can I help you?

He points to the books I have in my hand. "I think those are mine."

He must have made the online reservation from his phone whilst IN the store, because I had gone to fill the order immediately. "Oh, ok here you go!..." I said, and started to hand him the books.

"SHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" he says, and points angrily towards his two children, who are standing a few feet away from him. He was looking at me like I had just pissed all over Christmas.

I was PEEVED. I'm a mind reader, so I should have known those were his kids, right?

It's not my fault that he brought his kids with him to 'secretly' buy THEIR presents.

I silently held out his books and he looks even more irritated at my moronic actions. 'Well, take them up to the front!' he hisses.

Well, that's what I was about to fucking DO, idiot. Before YOU stopped me.

I just silently turned on my heel and walked away. Absolutely steaming mad. Yeah, buddy. I ruined Christmas for your kids. That's my job. You're welcome.



And then there were the ungrateful people.

My co-worker S, who I mentioned in my last blog post as a weirdo-magnet, found a credit card in the Sci-Fi section yesterday.

She brought it up to me, and I was going to go lock it in the drawer up front. My co-worker M suggested that we make an announcement in case the person who lost it was still in the store. I admit that I was a dumbass for not thinking of that, and I said it was a good idea.

M paged the person (let's call him John Smith. Ok, that's boring... let's call him Horatio Buttsmacker) over the loudspeaker, and 30 seconds later a man shows up to the desk with a teenager in tow.

"Can we help you?" I ask.

"I'm Horatio Buttsmacker." he replies.

M smiles at him, "We called you up because we found your credit card. Here you go!" She holds it out.

He isn't smiling, and makes no move to take the card. "That's impossible. That's not my card. I have my card.""

"But you said you're Horatio Buttsmacker. Look, here's your name on this card," M holds it up.

He pulls out his wallet. "But I have my card. Look, here it is." He does indeed pull out a card that looks identical. He still makes no move to take the card we found with his name on it.

"Oh, well do you have someone with you that would have a copy of your card?" Because this is obviously his effing card. His name wasn't a common name.

"No."

"Well sir...this has your name on it..." We were repeating ourselves, but what else does one say? He finally takes the card.

He turns to the teen and says, "Where's your grandma?" and strides away from the desk. I guess Grandma can't keep track of her cards very well.

No "Thank you for finding my card!" Nothing!

I should have just said, "You're right, it's my card. Silly me. My name's Horatio Buttsmacker too! What a coincidence! Sorry about the mix up. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go buy that diamond necklace I've had my eye on..."



And now it's time for the Wiener of the Week!

This week's winner is....Mullet Guy!!

Yesterday I was walking through the Sci-Fi section and spotted the most epic mullet I've ever seen in my life.

The Mullet to crush all other Mullets.

This guy had his hair shaved to within a 1/2 inch of his scalp all the way down to the nape of his neck, and then there were 2 feet of long, luxurious, curly tresses down his back.

I wish I had had my camera.

It was the kind of hairstyle that prompted one to tell everyone to casually walk past the section for a look at this thing.

My co-worker V walked up to Customer Service a short while later and we asked her if she'd seen the Mullet Guy.

She said, "You mean Billy Ray Cyrus over there?"



HILARIOUS. Business in the front, party in the back. Mullet Guy's mullet was even more extreme than Billy Ray's though, because the 'business' end was much shorter.

Funniest secondhand bookseller experience of the week?

Once again the winner is my co-worker S with Harmonica Man.

Last week, she was working when a customer rolls up.

"Hi there, can I help you with something?" she said.

"Hi. Do you play the harmonica?" he asks.

S told me later that she wasn't aware that playing the harmonica was a required skill of working in a bookstore.

"No, I don't," she replies.

"Oh," he says, disappointed."Well, do you have any books on playing the harmonica?" he continues.

"We may have a couple of them," she said. "I think there's a kit we sell that has a book and a harmonica together..."

"Good! Because I need to learn how to play it before Christmas!"

This was last Wednesday. I'm no expert on the harmonica, but I picked one up once and tried it. It's a lot harder than it looks.

Good luck to Harmonica Man, and whomever he plans to serenade with it Bob Dylan-style over the holidays.




Right now we could sell anything to anyone. People are realizing that there's only 3 shopping days left, and they still haven't gotten everything.

The other day a woman hurriedly walks up to Customer Service and asks frantically, "Do you sell Snuggies?????"



I almost felt bad that we didn't, she was so desperate looking.

"No, I'm sorry we don't. But if you're looking for the perfect gift for the Snuggie Wearer that has everything, we do sell "The Snuggie Sutra"!"



Yes, that is an actual book. If we ever find THAT one in the men's bathroom, I'm really going to fear for humanity.

But yeah...people will buy anything right now. One co-worker remarked the other day, "If the last thing we had in this store to sell was a steaming pile of crap, someone would buy it."

Cookbooks, for example. When we first set up the promo tables for Christmas, the cooking section wasn't even being sniffed at.

Now? It's pandemonium. "Shit, I don't know what to get Fred... I know! I'll get him a cookbook!!"

Three days left.

And then the REAL work starts.

Returns, returns, returns.

"Whaddya mean I can't return this board game after I opened it and played with it 20 times? What kind of return policy is that??"

Merry Christmas everyone!!! Don't let the Shifty Santas get you!!

It's The Most Wonderful Time For A Beeeeer!

Here it is. Finally.

The biggest shopping day of the year.

Some might say I'm wrong.




'Black Friday' in the States you say? Hah. Child's play.

'Boxing Day' in Canada? To that I say bullshit, fiddlesticks and Cockfosters! (that last one was for you, Bub)

Everyone should know that it's the last Saturday before Christmas that is the universal craziest shopping day of the year. Everyone's off work. Everyone just got paid.

I feel like Frodo Baggins. I've just entered Mordor and I'm staring down Sauron.



If you're not a Lord of the Rings geek like me, Sauron may just look like a big, fiery vagina to you. Which would inspire the same feelings of trepidation. So it works.



If I survive this weekend, I'll probably have one more Christmas Countdown post for you next Wednesday.

My brother in law is coming for a visit from Florida today. I love Steve, he's awesome. I lucked out in the in-laws department. I wish I could spend more of it visiting instead of working, but such is the life of a retail worker.

I really suffer for my craft. A bona fide tortured artist.



Ok, I draw the line at cutting off my ear. I wear my hair up a lot.

Hope everybody's last week before Christmas goes well! Shop as much as you can to support your local retailers and keep lovely people like me in a job! :)

Bookstore Chronicles: Countdown to Xmas #3

A cornucopia of crazies came rollin' on in this week. Christmas is getting close and it's cold outside by NC standards, so I knew they would.

If you sell it, they will come (notice the cornucopia I chose is full of fruit).



Last week, remember how I stated that I become slightly afraid when I get called up to the front for customer assistance? That time it was Logging Lady. This week it was Calendar Guy.

I get up to the front after I hear the page, and the cashier tells me that the customer is looking for an Anne Geddes calendar. You know Anne Geddes...she's the one that dresses babies as cabbages and people think it's cute?




I notice that the customer has an Anne Geddes calendar in his hand already, and I point this out. Call me Captain Obvious.

"This ain't the right one," he replies.

The cashier shows me the picture of the one he wants and he follows me out to the calendar racks. When I say he followed me, I mean he followed me. I mean he practically glued his feet to my feet just in case I got more than two inches ahead of him.

I'm sure all of you have had an encounter with a 'Close Stander'. These people are completely missing that natural chip in their brains that tell them "YOU ARE STANDING TOO CLOSE AND THE OTHER PERSON IS UNCOMFORTABLE". They're the ones that will sit right next to you in an empty movie theater when there are 200 other seats to choose from.

I'm a person that doesn't even like being that close to people I know and like.

I'm sure I get one Close Stander a day at the store. There's one particular lookup computer in the music department that I dread using. It's the only one in the store where the screen and keyboard face towards the customer. So my back is to the customer standing behind me when I'm looking a title up for them. For some reason that gives people the green light to practically dry hump me into the desk.

Anyway, I take Calendar Guy into the section, and he's spouting off compliments about me. Conjure up a "paddle faster, I hear banjo music" sort of accent in your minds.

"You sure are a beautiful lady. You have such pretty eyes, wow you're good-lookin'! And your hair. I love redheads! You're just so beautiful. I guess I should shut up in case my wife comes up behind me. Did I mention how good-lookin' you are???..."

So everyone likes a compliment. I'm not a total dog, so I occasionally get asked for my phone number and I have to flash the wedding ring. But when a 60 year old man is following you so closely that he's practically saddling you up, the compliments become a bit creepy. Especially when they don't stop. I said thank you 5 times, and he still went on.

We get over to the calendar rack in the corner, and he was standing way too close. I backed up around the fixture, and he backed up with me. I was pretty much pressed against the wall. Keep in mind that he's complimenting me the whole time, and simultaneously telling me just how many of those Anne Geddes calendars we should have in the store.

Booksellers are not supposed to tell customers exactly how many of a certain product that we have. We are all human beings, and human beings make errors. Things get put in the wrong place and we can't find them. If a customer knows you can't find something and they've been told that there are 10 copies of it, you look like a total asshole.

"There are 6 of 'em. She told me there were 6, but I just can't find 'em. Did I tell you I think you're pretty and I want to wear your skin as a snowsuit??"

Okay, he didn't say that last part, but it sure felt like he was thinking it.

Creepy McCreeperson.

I just couldn't find him the calendar he wanted, and he finally left with the one he originally had in his hand. And I was left with the intense urge to take a shower and to write" The Twelve Days of a Bookstore Christmas".

Twelve crackheads sleeping,
Eleven children screaming,
Ten CDs stolen,
Nine customers ranting,
Eight fruitcakes raving,
Seven chairs soiled,
Six porn mags hidden,

Fiiiiive piiiink fuuuuuuuzzy booooooks!!

Four Close Standers,
Three strippers limping,
Two tattooed bikers,

...and a Frappuccino spilled on the floooooooor!


Speaking of raving fruitcakes.

The other night I was at customer service, and a dude walks up. I could tell by the shifty look in his eyes that he'd had all sorts of crazy for breakfast that morning. He sounded like Peter Lorre in 'Arsenic and Old Lace'.

"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you but I just wanted to tell you that I was outside the library tonight and I saw the eclipse and I just wanted to tell you that you had better be good yeah and I'll be good and we all need to be good so something bad doesn't happen I see you're probably busy but I just needed to tell you that and you have a good night I'm sorry to bother you..."

Ho.Lee. Shit. I thought I was gonna get stabbed. He seriously was talking like that. I haven't encountered a run-on sentence like that since reading James Joyce. Joyce was kinda crazy like that. But he only had one crazy eye.



I don't know what the hell Eclipse Guy was talking about. The sky did look a little weird around sunset, it was yellowish-green...I don't know. I'm just glad the dude backed up and walked away before I had to call security.




There was porn found in the men's bathroom for the second time this week. I was shelving some books near the cafe when I overheard a customer telling this chick he was with that he had to go to the bathroom and that someone had put a stash of porn in there.

I turned around. "Did you just say there was porn in the bathroom?"

He looked at me like he wished I hadn't heard so that he could go in and look at it again. "Yeah."

I sent our assistant manager in there with a pair of gloves. He came out carrying two books. One was a large Kama Sutra photo book, and the other was "Sex For Dummies".

The Kama Sutra I can understand. "Sex For Dummies"?? Who the hell uses "Sex For Dummies" as spank bank material? "Ooh, I get all turned on by educational descriptions, semi-witty quips and crude ink drawings!" I suppose it's not that weird...after all, there are people out there who like it when people paddle them or pee on them. But I can even understand THAT more than I can understand someone getting off on "Sex For Dummies".

Why do people even need 'how-to' sex books anyway? This is one of our most popular ones:



Where's the imagination? Why don't you just ask your man what he likes? What if he doesn't want his perineum probed?? What if he doesn't want his testes tugged??

I found that book left on the Bible table yesterday. Makes sense. If you follow the book's instructions, you'll make your man see Jesus.



I've mentioned before that my company is all about freedom of speech. When it comes to books, we sell anything and everyhing.

The assistant manager and I were cleaning up near the end of the night (the same night we found the 'porn'). We were talking and this woman strides up to us.

"Hi. So I can't BELIEVE that you don't sell books by Hitler. This is ridiculous. I thought a company like this would sell 'Mein Kampf' for sure! I'm very disappointed in your company."

I'm sure the both of us looked like deer in the headlights. "Actually ma'am, we do sell 'Mein Kampf'. I'll show you where it is," I said.

Hitler Girl follwed along behind me. Thank God she kept her distance, unlike Calendar Guy.

"Well, I don't see it anywhere. It's not in your biography section. Where else would it be?"

She just kept talking and saying how disappointed she was. A lot of people buy 'Mein Kampf' and I went straight to the shelf it was on in the European History section.

I put it her hand, and she acted surprised like she had thought I was lying about having it in the store. She was delighted. Then she was quickly disappointed because we didn't have Hitler's second book.

I offered to try and order it. "What's it called?"

She looked at me like I had just asked her what year it was. "It's called 'Hitler's Second Book'."

Then she went into a lecture about how Hitler was so smart and was quoting 'Mein Kampf'. Now, I don't deny that Hitler was charismatic. Most fascist rulers are, don't ya know? How else would you get people to follow you and kill 6 million people for you? But I generally hate murderous leaders who use their charisma for pure evil and I don't go around quoting them in public places.

The assistant manager that was there with me had grown a mustache for the month of November, it's a fundraising thing that they do here to raise money for sick kids. We had been joking all month that he should shave it into a Hitler-stache. Of course he didn't do that, but he dyed it black for fun. After the woman left, he mentioned that and we laughed. Can you imagine? She would have thrown herself down on the ground in front of him in a 'we're not worthy-esque' sort of way.



This week's Wiener of the Week Winner is....drum roll please!

The Marine that was standing in the Current Affairs section with his buddy, talking very loudly about shaving his balls.

Literally. " ...SO I TOTALLY HAD TO SHAVE MY BALLS LAST NIGHT BECAUSE THIS GIRL..."

There was a family looking at books just behind Customer Service that looked up at this, over in the Marine's general direction. Then the family looked at me like, 'Aren't you going to do something about this?'

I actually had to go over and tell the Marine that if he was going to talk about his balls, he had to be quieter about it. Well, I didn't use those words, but you know.

Funniest Secondhand Bookseller Experience of the Week?

My co-worker S had a good one. I'm not quoting exactly, because I wasn't there. But she deserves a guest spot in my blog (S is a weirdo-magnet), and this is how it happens in my mind.

S: Hi there! Is there anything I can help you with?

Customer: Yes. I'm from New Jersey. I'm looking for a book on baby care, but you probably don't have those down here.
[ie: The South]

S: Actually we do...[S, who is from the South, finds the book Jersey Girl is looking for]

Jersey Girl: There's no box with this. Doesn't it come with a box?

S: No ma'am, I'm sorry, it doesn't come with a box.

Jersey Girl: Oh. I don't want it then.

Apparently in New Jersey, all the baby books come with boxes and they think Southerners learn all their baby care tips from the local Mountain Witch Woman. Maybe everything comes with a box in New Jersey. Like the dead bodies that the Mafia dump into the Hudson River. How do you like that false stereotype, Jersey Girl?




Christmas is next week. We're getting down to crunch time. I'm thinking of writing another Christmas song...."It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest".



(I'm oh so talented with 'Paint')

Bookstore Chronicles: Countdown to Xmas #2

When customers come up to Customer Service and ask for help, the conversations usually go like this.

Me: "Hi there! *smiling* Can I help you?"

Customer: Hi! I'm looking for a book.

Me: "Aren't we all! *wink* What are you looking for?"

Customer: "Well, I don't know the title."

Me: "Ok. Who's the author?"

Customer: "Um...I don't know the author either."

Me: "Okayyyy....what can you tell me about the book?"

Customer: "Well, it's about [some broad random subject] and I KNOW that it's pink."

Me: "It's pink?"

Customer: "Yep. It's pink. For sure."

Me: "Um, I'd love to find that book for you, but I really need some more information on it to search for it. What else can you tell me about it?"

Customer: "Nothing. That's all I know."

Me: "Well, I don't know of any book like that off the top of my head..."

Customer: [looking at me like they can't believe I don't know what book they're talking about and like I have three heads as well] "Oh. Well, like I said. It's pink. There aren't that many pink books are there?"

Me: "I can't search by colour..."

Customer: "Oh! I just thought of something else about it!"

Me: "Great! What is it??"

Customer: "It's fuzzy."

Me: *crying and laughing on the inside* "Nameless, authorless, pink, fuzzy book, eh?"



That exact situation happens several times a day. Several.

Yesterday I was called up to the front to help an older lady find a book. When I got up there, I saw that it was a customer that was famous for being a little difficult. Great.



"Can I help you," I asked.

"This lady is looking for a book on logging," said L, the cashier that called me.

"Logging?" I asked?

The old lady nodded.

"Ok....well, I know off the top of my head that we're not going to have anything like that in the store. Our nature section is pretty small."

She looked at me like I was a COMPLETE asshole.

"Really?" she said.

"Yep. We don't really have anything like that, because it's not something that sells in this market. Maybe I can look it up and see if I can order you something? There's still time before Christmas to do that," I said.

She just kept looking at me. She had this little smirk on her face like she thought I was being stupid and difficult and was lying all at the same time.

"Really? I would have thought that would be popular. The man I'm buying for loves that show on the History channel about the loggers."

"Well," I said, "I see in my lookup system that there's a couple of textbooks about logging. And that's about it. I'm so sorry, it just doesn't seem to be a popular subject."

More disbelieving blinks in my direction. "Ok, what about fiction? I'd be happy for a fictional story about logging. He's very hard to buy for. You must have something."

Sigh.

"Ma'am, we really don't even have anything that I could order besides these two textbooks. I'm sorry."

And she just walked away in disgust. Before I finished my sentence.

Yep.

Let me let you in on something. I'd rather someone yell and let me have it than someone just turning on their heel and walking away. That is the epitome of rudeness to me. Turning on your heel and walking away is a big, fat,



I actually did get reamed out by another customer this week. One of our music sellers allegedly told him that the CD he ordered would be there by that day. And of course it wasn't.

I always suspect that there's a big problem when a cashier calls me and says, "Can you come to the registers, please?" without further explanation.

This particular problem was completely our fault. It was probably one of our seasonal newbies. We never, ever guarantee that an item will be in on 'x' day. It's always a range. What if something happens to the UPS truck? Stuff like that is something we can't control.

So I apologized profusely. I apologized for the person who told him that. I apologized, apologized, apologized. And I topped the apologies with apology sprinkles.

Not good enough. "But I want to buy it NOW. They said it would be here today. I'm here to purchase it. Now."

I really felt bad that our mistake made him come all the way down for nothing. But after a plethora of apologies, I didn't know what else to do. Pull it out of my ass?



He just kept standing there and staring at me. Nothing would appease him except buying his CD.

Oh well, that's what I signed up for when I took this temporary floor manager job. At least he yelled at me, and let me apologize one more time before finally turning and walking away.

There haven't been any horrific bathroom incidents. Apparently, 'horrific' has taken on a whole new meaning for me. I reluctantly responded to a call for 'attention to the Ladies' Room' and it was no more than a toilet that someone hadn't bothered to flush because they're lazy, and I was RELIEVED. Is that wrong, or what??

I look like a crazy person walking into the bathroom...tentatively opening up each of the stall doors to peer inside...then finding the offending toilet, flushing it, and walking out smiling and giving everyone the thumbs up because the mess was all in the toilet instead of all over the outside of it. AND it was a flushable mess, no plunger necessary!

It's the little things in life that matter...

Time sure passes quickly when you're running back and forth doing returns, giving change, helping out at the registers, cleaning up coffee spills, and on bathroom duty (haha, bathroom doody). You pray for January, and then when it finally comes, you're bored out of your head because you were so used to the rush and madness.



Week 2 is complete.

Bookstore Chronicles: Countdown to Xmas #1

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