If you're trying to be flirty with me, and you take a picture in front of your bookshelves, and they're pretty much empty, you better have either
1.) Just moved, and haven't finished unpacking yet.
2.) Just been robbed, and are about to ask me to either donate to a fundraiser to restack your library, or hunt down and kill the thief.
3.) Be in the middle of a project that means that all your books are on desks, chairs, your bed, the floor, etc.
Random Pokemon Scalper: Do you guys have any Elite Trainer Boxes.
Me: Nope. Sorry. We sold out of them already.
RPS: Aw, man. I waited for a half an hour outside your other store for the girl to show up, and she only had two blue, and I need a blue and a red.
Me: That's not us. We don't have another store.
RPS: Huh. Oh! I saw your dad the other day.
Me: I don't think so.
RPS: Sure, I stopped in and your dad was working there.
Me: Nobody's dad works here. I think you've got the wrong store.
RPS: I talked with the older guy.
Me: I don't know who that is. We go as old as mid-40s here.
RPS: But your kids work there, right?
Me: Nope. No kids. I don't know who you talked to.
RPS: Huh. So you don't have any extra Elite Trainer Boxes for me in the back?
Me: I don't know who you are, so ... no. Sorry.
RPS: Ok. Bye Curtis.
Me: Bye Stiffany.
It doesn't just happen to me. This is from a former coworker circa 2012:
Please note this wasn't a Comic Book Person being weird, this is just a weirdo who comes into a comic book store and is aggressively baffing to a specialty retail employee:
I Swear I wish I was making this sh*t up...
Rando: "Do you have Baaahhbeezze? I need a weddin days Baaahhbeeze."
Me: "Sorry, we don't carry Barbie Dolls"
Rando: "You got supthin against Baaahhbeezze?"
Me: "Nope, we just don't carry them here. We are a comic book store."
Rando: "My daughtah needs Wedding Day Baaahhbeeze"
Me: "Sorry, you might try Target or Toy's R Us."
Rando:"Ugh, Do I look like a Communist?"
Me: "I'm sorry?"
Rando: "Never mind... You think Booksmith has Bahhbeeeze?"
Me: "Probably not they are a..."
He turns around and walks out the door as I speak.
I am going to start carrying a flask to work I think...
The very minute our store closes, the former Yoga Studio downstairs turns into one woman loudly running some sort of Aerobics program over Zoom.
So I turn off The Simpsons or Teen Titans or whatever and it's "COME ON GIRLS, LIFT THOSE LEGS!!! HANG ON, WE'RE NOT DONE YET. GO!!!! GO!!!! GO!!!! YOU CAN DO IT!!!!" with blaring country pop and light hiphop with 80s samples.
Tonight, she keeps somehow knocking over whatever device she's using to play music, and has to start the song and the same shouting routine over.
So, it's time for me to lift my legs dafuck outta here.
Me, a queer person, reviewing a book by a straight, cis, white woman:
"I hope more queer writers get work in the industry so that (a straight, cis, white woman) and her ilk can go back to writing fluffy, inoffensively bland hetero relationship comics" (instead of stories about queer male teenagers).
"If you're a woman who enjoys the fetishization of gay males to help you get up in your feels, than this bullshit is Your Bullshit, and you're welcome to it."
A straight, CIS, white woman: "I disagree! It gave a great representation for the lgbtq+ community and it definitely wasn’t fetishized. I thought it was just any other love story."
Me, internally: "Shut up, Camille."