Honest Conversation Is Overrated
Actual Human Interactions Witnessed Or Overheard
In Twentieth And Twenty-First Century America
In Twentieth And Twenty-First Century America
Eleven year old to his…uncle?…godfather?
"I love the Bone books! I totally ran train on them this weekend." WHAT?
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For the last month, a guy has called three or four times a day, asking for books to be put aside for him. He asks the price, and mentions that he is going to be anywhere from two to five dollars short, and is it ok if he underpays? The owner has said yes, so every week this guy saves a few dollars. The thing is, he buys expensive books, and none of them are new or popular, so the logic has been: “He’s spending a lot of money here buying things we otherwise not sell, so why not take a four dollar hit to make a $95 sale?”
It was only today when he called that I thought, “Why not just tell him his books cost five dollars more than they do?” This way, he pays full price while thinking he’s conning us out of money. How did it take a month for any of us to come up with this idea? Last night the owner bought in two full boxes of sci-fi anthologies from the seventies: Galaxy, and Fantasy and Science Fiction. He had me price them up, and today I shelved them. The entire time I was bagging, pricing, and organizing them I thought “I should buy these. They’re super cheap even before my discount. I like sci-fi stories, and these are by some of the most influential sci-fi writers of the generation before me. I think I’m going to buy them. Plus, as a set, they’d look really good on a bookshelf.”
Then, I noticed it wasn’t a complete run, there were several volumes missing, and suddenly, I didn’t want them anymore. Kid: Look, Dad, they’ve got a Wolverine #1.
Dad: *Sigh* Yea, I had the full set of Wolverine when I was in college, but I sold it for heroin and ramen noodles. Kid: What? Dad: Don’t do drugs. Random dude walks up to the counter and launches into conversation: “A comic called Awesome Man? What’s next Fellatio Man? Dick In The Mouth Man? Sex based heroes would be totally inesicktive. It would be, like chaos. Oh, snap. This Catwoman is based off Halle Berry. Who thought Anne Hathaway would make a good Catwoman? I would have cast Scarlett Johannsen. Do you have the comic where Batman dies—”
"RIP or Final Cri—" "and meets The Green Goblin or some shit? OH SICK! The Death of Captain America. Who killed him?" He clearly has no interest in my input. “No clue.” "Prolly the Green Goblin. Dude is everywhere. Oh, shit, you got the horse from Gumby?" "Yea, Pok—" "I watched that show when I was seven, it was mad funny. Have you seen the Batman movie yet, I think it’s—" He turns the corner to the porn section. And now, creepy, creepy silence. While on my way to work, a young woman working for one of those environmental/social change companies that gives young people aprons and clipboards and asks them to harass people on the street for signatures waved her hands in my face and said “Prove you like women. Talk to me for thirty seconds.”
Me: “Sorry, I’m on my way to work.” Canvasser: “What’s the matter, you don’t like women?” Me: “No, I just don’t like you.” One of the things I love about working in a "historical district": watching two obnoxious Russian tourists trying to engage a Historical Tour Guide in a confrontation:
Russian Jerk: “Your country is shit. You think you have problems. You never had to live….to survive with a Lenin.” Tour Guide: “I know no Lenin, sir? Is he a Minuteman?” RJ: “Don’t know Lenin?” Loud exhale “He is father of Communism!” TG: “What is Communism, sir? Is it a type of goat?” Sketchy Thursday Night Guy wafts in: “Hey, my man, I’m a collector collector. Y’know? I’m looking for some of the classic authors. The really good writers.”
Me: “Alan Moore? Frank Miller? Stan Lee? Jack Kirby? Harold Gray? Walt Kelly?” STNG: “No.” Me: “No? Then who?” STNG: “The guy who wrote The Piano Tuner.” I open up the Google page. “Wait. The porn comic?” STNG: “Yea.” Me: “You want to know the classic comic porn authors?” STNG: “Yea.” Me: “Sorry, man, I am as far from an expert as you can imagine.” I point to the porn section. “What we have are on those shelves. If you’re looking for other specific titles, let me know, and I’ll see if we can order them.” He wanders over to the porn section. “I can’t believe they let you work in a comic book store, and you don’t know The Piano Tuner. I should tell your boss. He’ll probably fire you.” Me: “Yea. You want his phone number? He could probably use a good laugh.” My least favorite type of people are the people who want me to accept them As They Are, when who they are is A Person Who Doesn’t Accept Others For Who They Are.
While I was waiting for a slice of pizza, a woman ran over to the counter from her seat. “Sir!!! Sir!!! Excuse me, there was an ONION on my pizza.”
"Oh, I gave you a slice of onion? I’m sorry." "No, just one onion. I COULD HAVE DIED." He steps back. “Are you allergic to onions?” "No, but my cousin is." (At the same time, in Montreal, a woman turns to a complete stranger. “Sir. I’m sorry for being an overreactionary douchecrumpet.” The man steps back confused. “I…I didn’t notice. You’re an overreactionary douchecrumpet?” "No, but my cousin is.") |
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