'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! :)
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,
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".
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.
Work is really picking up. The day after Thanksgiving here in the States ('Black Friday', which was yesterday) is the biggest shopping day of the year. People line up all night long outside of stores to be the first ones in and get special deals. Fights break out. People get stabbed. From now till Christmas, my store should be hoppin'. Hopefully it'll be sans frenzied shopper stabbings. I suppose books don't fan the flames of bloodlust like marked down electronics do.
I'm not going to say I'm not a materialistic person. Most of us are. George Carlin had a great bit about it. Saw him perform in person a few years ago, brilliant.
But DUDE. I can't believe that people will CAMP OUT all night just to buy a TV. One of my friends just goes out to be around the crazy people buying stuff at 3am, he doesn't even buy anything. It's a tradition. I was at work till 10:30 last night, and one of my co-worker friends said that she'd been up for 24 hours.
?????
You know what my ass is doing at 3am the day after Thanksgiving?
If I don't have to work, my Canadian ass is HIBERNATING. I am in a solid turkey/pumpkin pie/ mashed potato coma. This was the first year I've worked at the bookstore that I wasn't scheduled to work at 4am on Black Friday. I took advantage of every bit of sleep I could get because I knew work that afternoon would be crazy.
It just amazes me what people will do for a good deal on merchandise. In Canada, the day after Christmas (which is 'Boxing Day' to my American friends) is our big shopping day of the year. And it's turned into a week now. They call it 'Boxing Week' sales. I used to joke that it was going to turn into 'Boxing Fortnight' sales. I went out on Boxing Day once, and it totally wasn't worth it. As one of my favourite eloquent sayings goes...fuck THAT shit.
And, just because nature is cruel, I am also getting sick. I don't get sick very often even though I work with the public. My immune system is pretty good. Touching dirty, disgusting money all day long will do that to ya.
Ladies? If you're gonna keep money in your 'bra bank' as you so classily put it, will you please take it out of there before you come up to me to check out? If I'm going to be handling money that's been in your sweaty cleavage, I don't want to know about it first. Thanks.
When I do get sick, it's a bastard. Usually I'm the one that will bring it home and spread it to Chuckles. I'm just around so many people every day. This year it's been the other way around. The One-Lunged-Wonder been sick for almost two weeks. Major chest cold/flu/whatever.
He sounded like the singer from Crash Test Dummies O_O
Took me so long to get it, I thought I might escape. Maybe I had gotten this particular virus before! Then I woke up yesterday and I could feel my throat tightening up. This morning I sound like the Crash Test Dummies guy. Which is sort of creepy. Tomorrow I expect it to be in full swing. Which is perfect timing. Customers love it when you're hacking all over their grandkids' Christmas presents.
Oh well, it's probably better that I get it now than the week of Christmas.
On the upside of things, weather is still gorgeous. This is the only time of year I'm not homesick for Canada. Sunny, warm. I put up my outdoor Christmas lights the other day. I did it in a t-shirt. Well, not only in a t-shirt. That would have caused a neighbourhood scandal. But you know what I mean. And it was AWESOME.
So anyway, I don't know how much blogging I'll get done in the next few weeks. It'll probably be several little crazy customer vignettes, which I know you always look forward to.
You know what I love more than giving presents? Giving someone a present that I get to enjoy just as much as they do.
Um, not that kind of present.
I just got him concert tickets to Robert Plant & The Band of Joy as a Merry Christmas/Happy Birthday present. They play here in February a couple of days before his birthday.
As most of you know, we're both huge Led Zeppelin fans. I've seen Robert play twice, and Chuck's also seen him twice. Each time he plays, he's with a different group of musicians, and the collaborations always seem to really work.
A lot of Zep fans lament the fact that he's the one that puts the kibosh on a reunion tour. I don't. While it would be cool and everything, I understand why he doesn't want to do it. Can you imagine playing the same songs with the same group of people night after night for 40 years? I'd get tired as hell.
And the collaborations Robert participates in have been genius so far.
Chuck and I saw him perform with Allison Krauss in 2008. We had to travel out to Charlotte to get some of my immigration obligations taken care of, and on the way back we popped into Asheville to see the concert. We had 2nd row tickets at the Asheville Civic Center. One of the best shows I've ever attended. Those two are awesome together. T-Bone Burnett was playing with them, he's had his hand in producing many award winning albums in the last couple of years. Buddy Miller was on guitar as well. That dude rocks. Here's a pic from the show.
Anyway, I had the pleasure of listening to Robert Plant & The Band of Joy's new album on our in-store play list at work. it's great. 'Band of Joy' as a name goes back to Robert's early days before Zep. He and John Bonham were in a band with the same name. Robert liked it I guess, and is using it for this latest collaboration of musicians. Buddy Miller is playing with him again this time around. Which is all kinds of AWESOME.
This is my favourite off the new album. It's a cover of Los Lobos' 'Angel Dance'.
Anyway, I'm very excited. Best present I could have bought us, I mean him :)
I don't get my nails manicured. I don't collect designer handbags. No closet full of fancy shoes.
Most of my friends are dudes. I love sports and beer. Ya'll know what a ham I am, I don't care if I look silly.
I've got a mouth so dirty that even the Orbit girl runs the other way.
Get the picture?
But nothing floats my boat more than getting my hair done. Girly girly girly. I don't get to go as often as I like. But I did get to go this morning, and I feel FANTASTIC.
I've been colouring my hair since I was 12. It's been every natural colour out there. Black was the worst mistake I made, when I was 14. Washed my skin out so badly I looked like a fat vampire trout.
Blonde hair looked awesome on me, but waaay too much maintenence. And it wasn't really me.
Red on the other hand...I should have been born with it. Nothing makes me feel more like me than flaming red hair. As my hair soaks up the dye, I also soak up confidence. Makes me stick out in a crowd in a good way.
People always think it's natural. They don't know that the carpet doesn't match the curtains, and I'm good with that.
I'm very vain about my hair. I think one of the reasons I've been kinda down and awkward the last couple of weeks is because it was 4 months since I had it last coloured. More roots than a truck full of carrots. I looked like a hobo.
But I'm back baby!
*does a little dance*
I feel like a Femme Fatale. A sexpot. A minx.
Chuckles better watch out when he walks through the door...
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