Overly Protective Christian Mom comes in with her twentyish year old daughter, and is looking around for comics. She fits the stereotype of busybody concerned more with image than action. She almost definitely voted for Trump.
After a few minutes she comes up to the counter with a couple of books of Kitaro, a Shigeru Mizuki book. "Believe it or not," she says "these are for me."
"Ah." I say. Believing it.
Then she asks her daughter if there's anything she's interested in.
"I think I'm going to buy a book myself." The daughter says.
"No." says the mom. "You need to read more. I'll buy your books."
The daugher sighs. "No, thanks. I can afford a book."
"Can I see that --- HUHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!! THAT BOOK IS ABOUT THE DEVIL."
"No." The daughter says. "It's about a band. The band is called Beelzebubs."
"THAT'S THE DEVIL'S NAME. YOU CAN'T BUY A BOOK WITH THE DEVIL'S NAME. DIOS MIO. We are going to have to watch the movie again when we get home."
The daughter pinches her brow to fight off what, I imgaine, is a common headache for her. "No. Mom. It's a book about a band. A book that I'm going to buy. It's jokes. It's not a devil book."
"No daughter of mine is going to buy devil books. you put it back. Now. Put it back. We'll have to watch the movie twice now."
What fucken movie is she talking about?
They walk around, separately for a few minutes before the mom re-approaches the counter. "Do you have any books with folk tales?"
"Well, there is an excellent series based on adapted European folk tales, but I don't think you'd be too keen on buying Hellboy."