Lying Customer: "Hi, these books are from my subscription."

Me: "I'm sorry, did we forget to put them in your folder for you?"

LC looks at me, perplexed.

Me: "I saw that you had to pick them off the shelf. I'm sorry if we missed them."

LC: "It's ok."

Me: "Here, let me make sure they're in the computer for you."

LC: "That's ok."

Me: "Huh. I don't have any of these titles on your subscription list. Would you like me to add them?"

LC: "No. I just get them off the shelf."

Me: "Ok." I ring up the comics full price.

LC: "Thanks."

While he's still in the store, I go over to his folder, which is chock full of issues.

Me: "Hey, your folder is a little thick. Do you think you'll have a chance to pick some of these up soon?"

LC: "Oh, I don't want those."

Me: "Ok." I pick up the folder and start sorting through the comics to reshelve them, and I walk over to the computer. "Why don't you tell me which books you'd like so that I can update your subscription in the computer."

LC: "It's fine the way it is. Thanks."

Me: "Ok, well, I'm going to delete all these books you don't want, and next time you come in, just tell me or whoever's working what you want added to your subscription."

LC: "Will I get my discount."

Me: "Your discount is good on anything you order, so if you give me a list of titles you want right now, I can make sure those things are on your subscription. Or, I can just add the titles you just purchased."

LC: "I might not want them next time."

Me: "Well, the subscription service helps us figure out what books to order for people. You're certainly free to put books that we order for you back on the shelf but we ask that you let us know so that we don't keep ordering books you don't want to read anymore."

LC: "Usually I just pick up what I want from he shelf and they give me the discount."

Me: "Do they usually ask you if the books you have are from your subscription?"

LC: "Yes."

Me: "And you say yes?"

LC: "Yes."

Me: "But they're not from your subscription. What's on the shelves are not available for discount unless we mess up and forget to give you something that you ordered."

LC: "That's confusing."

Me: "Anything we order for you, that you ask for, is discounted. Anything: issues, collections, t-shirts, toys. Anything that you haven't asked us to order for you is NOT discounted."

LC: "That's confusing."

I shrug.

Me: "So what would you like on your subscription."

LC: "It's fine the way it is."

Me: "Ok, well, next time you come in, and you say 'subscription', it's going to show up in the computer that you don't have a subscription, and you're going to have to either fill out a new form or just tell the person behind the counter which titles you'd like from now on."

LC: "Why?"

Me: "Because we're not going to keep ordering books that you don't want to read. That costs us money and takes up space. It also messes up our inventory numbers."

And then a dude in a parka who has been wandering around the hallway comes in.

DIP: "I'm trying to get into the print shop. Do you have any idea how to get in there?"

I point across the hall.

Me: "There's a door right there."

DIP: "Where?"

Me: "Directly ahead of you."

DIP goes into the print shop.

LC: "Boy, some people have a real problem with simple instructions."

My right eye twitches.

Me: "Yes." "Some people do."

And then I cancelled his subscription.

I came in to Problematic Pizza Place again, in hope of more fodder for my project, but the only other people in here are a tutor and her student, and I have no desire to eavesdrop on them.

At some point Problematic Pizza Guy started talking to me, and I ignored him, so he came over to the table and started moving his hands at me.

Me: "What are you doing?"

PPG: "I'm signing to you."

Me: "You're not. I speak American Sign Language." poorly.

PPG: "This means good, right?" He folds his arms.

Me: "No. This means good." I say, signing Good.

PPG: "So what does this mean?" he crosses his arms.

Me: "Delay of game."

It amuses me that three times in the last couple of weeks, someone I vaguely know through slam poetry has spotted me in the outside world and I've heard slight variations on the following converation:

Poet I Sort Of Know: "Oh, hey, Other Poet. I saw Adam" come into the restaurant/walking down the street/at the bar "and I wasn't sure I should come over and say hi, but then I saw you. How's it going?"

The person always looks at me while addressing Other Poet, as though I am some sort of parrot that they like and want to interact with but are afraid will bite them. In two out of the three times, they've had entire conversations where I am mentioned repeatedly but the first words they actually say TO me are "See you later."

Inevitably, as they walk away, I turn to Other Poet and ask "Who was that, again?" Then I ask for a cracker, say "Pretty Bird" three times, and bury my head under my shirt.

"I know it's 4AM, and that we were all sleeping peacefully but we just remembered that we hate each other and had to start loudly arguing until you were not only awake but couldn't possibly get back to sleep for another hour."
--shitty pets? or slam poet roommates during a tournament?

"If you didn't want to watch us fuck, why did you even let us in the room?"
 -- shitty pets? or slam poet roommates?

"That's right I left the food on the floor. You're the one who paid for this room, you're in charge of keeping it clean." 
--shitty pets? or slam poet roommates?

"Puke is just a fact of life, bro. Deal with it."
-- shitty pets? or slam poet roommates?


"I am tripping BALLS right now. What? What? You want me to stop yelling? What? Awwww man, I am tripping BALLS right now!" 
-- shitty pets? or slam poet roommates?


"If you don't want me to lay across your chest and stare at you, maybe you should find somewhere else to sleep." 
-- shitty pets? or slam poet roommates?

As it is fairly slow on Mondays, I try and be exceptionally nice to the people who stop in. So when someone came in and said he'd never bought a comic before but that he wanted something that was going to sweep him into the beauty of silence, I spent a great deal of time trying to figure out precisely how the hell I was going to translate that into a recommendation.

After some discussion of Miyazaki and anime, I recommended Akira and some Tezuka books.

Dude: "How much is this book?"

Me: "$14.99."

Dude: "And this one?"

I resist the urge to start flipping the books over and pointing to the prices which are on the back of every fucken book that he's picked up.

Me: "$15.99."

Dude: "Why aren't they the same price?"

Me: "They just aren't. Not all books are the same price."

Dude: "Who decides what the prices are?"

For real?

Me: "Publishers. Book distributors. Marketing experts. Basically, everyone but the artist, writer, and people working in the stores that carry them." HINT.

Dude: "How much would you price this at?"

Me: "Oh, that book is priceless. How can you attach a monetary value to a work of art?"

Dude: "Ok, but it you had to...."

Me: "$15.99."

Dude: "I'll take it."

1.) Ask who Alan Moore is.

2.) Inform the complete stranger who, at this point, doesn't know you're about to ask for a job, that Alan Moore once attacked you on the psychic plane while you were trying to establish a psi-link with Neil Gaiman.

3.) When asked what your name is, say "What's your name?" and then offer to change your name so that it matches.

4.) Suggest which coworker should be fired so that you can take their job.

5.) Suggest that Alan Moore psychically raped you when you just said ten minutes ago that you didn't know who he was.

6.) Laugh maniacally when asked what your phone number is.

7.) Inform the person you think you just met (but whom you have actually spoken with twice before) that you once dropped off a rock you painted to the store (he knows, he's the one you gave the rock to) and that he should hire you because painting rocks takes time and by giving him a painted rock you were showing him your dedication to getting a job.

7a.) Ignore #7 if you are applying for a rock painting job. Or an arts & craft instructor.

8.) Insist that you once dreamwalked to an alternate dimension where the apocalypse was taking place, and you saved the life of the person you are talking to.

9.) Tell the employee which medications you currently aren't taking because the fairies told you not to.

My coworkers are no longer allowed to leave the store on Sundays. Because just as that crackpot left, My Buddy Greg came in, and I left my flamethrower at home.

Me: "You've got great pictures. It's sort of refreshing to see clothed pictures of people doing cool things."

Him: "Thanks, you too."

Me: "What are you doing in the fourth picture?"

Him: "Walking against the wind. I'm studying to be a mime."

Me: "I like a man with a sense of humor."

Him: "Thanks. I really am studying to be a mime, though."

Him, twenty minutes later: "Hello?"

If he's on the psychic mime wave, he'll sense that I'm shaking my head and not responding to his emails.

Some days, when I have to separate out the books, I don't put any music on, and everyone who walks into the store whispers to each other. I don't know why this phenomenon fills me with joy. Possibly because it contrasts so heavily with the people who sit in the hallway shouting very private things into their cell phones:

"I AM SO SORRY ABOUT ALL THE HEPATITIS BUT THE DOCTOR TOLD ME -- WHAT DID YOU CALL ME? NUH-UH. YOU WRONG. YOU CAN'T BE SAYING THAT ISH! NO! NO! NO! YOU THE ONE WHO BROUGHT THE HERPES INTO THIS RELATIONSHIP. YOUR SISTER TOLD ME. NO I DIDN'T SLEEP WITH YOUR SISTER! HERE, LET ME GIVE YOU MY SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER AND MOTHER'S MAIDEN NAME. DO YOU HAVE A PEN HANDY? I'M GOING TO SAY IT REEEEEEEEEAL SLOW