Saturday, August 7, 2010
Dragons, Extra-Terrestrials, and Stolen Candy Bars
A man came up to the Information desk, where three of us were standing. "Should I get Chariots of the Gods for my 24 year old daughter?"
"Chariots of the Gods? I asked. "The one about beings from other planets coming to Earth?"
"That's the one!," he said.
"Well," one of my co-workers said, "Is she interested in that kind of thing? Or are you interested in it?"
"I'm definitely interested in it. It's her birthday. I want to get her a book."
We talked a little more, trying to figure out if she is (or might be) interested in something like that, or if he just WANTS her to be interested. He wasn't too clear about that.
I took him over to the New Age section and handed him Chariots of the Gods. He said, "I have to think about this. I need to come back when I have more time." He handed me the book and left.
A man came to the register with a Penthouse magazine. He seemed a little bit embarrassed to be buying it from me (a woman). I ask every customer if they want a bag, except I always put "men's sophisticates" in a bag. I put his magazine in a bag, gave him his change and said (just because it's habit), "Have a good night." That was a stupid thing to say, I thought. It's a Friday night, he's alone and buying a girlie magazine. How good is his night going to be?
Remember the woman who was going to the bachelorette party and was trying to find something not too racy to take for her goddaughter? She came into the store yesterday, and I asked how she was doing. She mentioned the bachelorette party and I asked her how it went.
"It was good. What I gave her was the least racy out of everything."
"Well, maybe that's good," I said, "Since you are her godmother. Maybe 'racy' isn't the message you want to send."
"Tonight I'm not looking for anything like that. I'm looking to see if there is a number 8 in the How to Train Your Dragon series."
I checked, and there is not.
"Okay, well, I thought I'd check. We're almost done with the seventh one, so we wanted the next one."
One of my co-workers came over to me with a few books and magazines he'd found on one of his store sweeps. He also had a crumpled candy bar wrapper, one of the candy bars we sell. Evidently there is someone who comes in every other day or so, steals one of our candy bars (milk chocolate or milk chocolate with almonds), heads to a remote area of the store, and stashes the wrappers in the same place, behind the law books. As a joke, I presume.