Yesterday, I came back from a break and My Illustrious Coworker said "Do you know of any comic books based on Cartoon Network Shows from a decade or so ago?"

I thought out loud: "Powerpuff Girls? Dexter's Laboratory? Codename Kids Next Door? Samurai Jack?"

MIC: "There's a woman over there trying to find some."

Me (to both of them): "I think there's a Samura Jack collection that we just ordered, and there are occasional Powerpuff Girls books but that's all I can think of. About five or six years ago there was a crossover called Block Party or Crisis or something. Unfortunately, it's out of print, so it's going to be difficult to find."

Random Weirdo Who Requested The Info: "That's the one I meant."

Awkward silence.

Me: "Sorry. It's not available."

RWWRTI loudly sighs and then just stands at the counter, picking at things.Her body language says "My life has been complicated and full of grief at not being able to read any Johnny Bravo comics."

My Illustrious Coworker does an eyeroll in my direction, and RWWRTI picks up the stylus we use for signing on our iPad and starts pressing it with her finger, then against the counter, then she pulls out her phone and starts doodling the stylus on her phone, and then she puts the stylus and her phone in her purse.

That can't be right. She watched me watching her doodle with it. She MUST have dropped it. So when she starts wandering around the shelves, I go around and check the floor where she was standing, I look around the counter. Nope. No stylus.

After about four minutes, I'm blocking the door. As she approaches it to leave, I ask "Did you accidentally take our stylus? I saw that you were using it."

RWWRTI opens up her purse and pulls out the stylus. "Well, it was near the take a penny jar so I thought it was free."

​And that's why I'm moving the Take A Penny Jar behind the counter so that nobody accidentally takes a Bat Signal or a Pop Figurine because, you know, it was NEAR the Take A Penny Jar.

Dude: Sorry, today I'm only speaking to people who use puns.

Me: A good pun is its own reword.

Dude: I'd like to reward you but I can't, sir.

Me: Well, if you change your mind I'm always on call just text me.

Dude: I don't get that one.

Me: Can't sir = Cancer, On call, just = Oncologist

Dude: Was that off the cuff?

Me: More or sleeveless.

​Dude: ...

Me: Yea, that one was pretty average. I'll C myself out.

Dude: Welcome BACK.

Pro Tip: When on a first date at a coffeehouse or restaurant, do not spend twenty minutes talking about how you couldn't find environmentally friendly lightbulbs for your apartment, so you sat in the dark for three months, punctuating the story with how you wanted to "have all of the babies" of the guy at the hardware store who helped you track down the lights you need, even though he was "too old for baby having".

Definitely don't epilogue the story about how you couldn't wait for the bulbs anymore so you figured "Fudge the environment, I don't plan on living long anyway."

​While you go to the bathroom, your date will ask a total stranger to text him an "emergency text" so that he can leave without feeling especially guilty. And I will agree to help your date, feeling no guilt whatsoever.

There is a lawyer/property owner (who doesn't own the property I'm currently living in) standing in the driveway behind my room, talking on his cell phone about how all the landlords need to kick out all their tenants and redevelop this neighborhood into condos. While most of the ignorant shit he's been saying is merely classist, there has been some weird racist barbs, some homophobia, and, of course, in-depth misogyny.

The thing is, this guy is directly beneath my porch, and I have this giant tub of hot soapy Lestoil water I'm using to clean the floor. It's not boiling and wouldn't actually injure him, and it would change his aroma from Eau De Eighties Movie Villain to Pine Fresh.

​How long can I resist this opportunity for protest?

Whenever someone new is talking with me, and says something akin to "You sure do seem to work a lot of weird hours. What do you do for a living?", I like to say "I'm New England's only on-call elephant gynecologist."
​
What unbelievable lies do you tell people when you want to end a topic of conversation?

Dude (via text): I don't think I've ever seen a picture of you not wearing that hat.
Me: It's surgically attached.

Dude: Why?

Me: Freak ballooning accident. It's a long story. It involves deviled eggs, a flying Delorian, and a case of sarsparilla.

Dude: Nobody has a case of sarsparilla. This isn't the nineteenth century.

Me: I *said* there was a balloon and a flying Delorian. Clearly, time travel was involved.

Dude: Your hat has a very complicated origin story.

Me: Your mom has a complicated origin story.

Dude: I'm going to sleep.

Me: You didn't even ask about the deviled egg.

Dude: I said Good Day, Sir.

Me: No, you didn't.

Dude: ...

Dude: ...

Dude: ...

​Dude: I'm going to sleep.

Dude: I don't know. I feel like it's too hot outside. Want to hang out and watch anime?

​Me: Depends on the anime, I guess.

Dude: Naruto?

Me: No.

Dude: You don't like me enough to hang out and watch ONE episode of Naruto?

Me: I don't like ANYONE enough to watch a single episode of Naruto.

Dude: ...

Me: Again.

Dude: Ohhhhhhhhhh.

I'm headed to The Homeland tomorrow to do some family things, so I've stayed late in the store, hoping there will be no reason for anyone to call me tomorrow and ask me for work help.

I just went out to get a drink, and came back to find someone pulling on the door. I waited for him to move a reasonable distance away, and then I began to unlock it.

Random Entitled Person: "Oh good, you've got the keys!"

Me: "Sorry all the businesses in the building are closed."

REP: "I just need to pick something up real quick."

Me: "Sorry. The stores all closed at seven. It's nine. All the cash has been deposited, the credit cards are batched. Nobody could sell you anything, even if I let you inside." This is a list of lies.

REP: "I just need to get one book. I could give you some extra cash, and you could keep all of it. You'd be doing me a huge favor."

Me: "I can't. I'm just the maintenance guy." Lies. Lies. Lies.

REP: "I really need an economy book before class tomorrow."

I didn't even know there were classes going on in the middle of August.

Me: "Someone would have to print that for you."

REP: "Yea. Could you do that?"

Me: "Could the maintenance guy go into a printing business, find the files you need for your class, print them out, collate them, and sell them to you without the business that he doesn't technically work for finding out and firing him?"

REP: "I'll give you ten extra bucks."

Me: "Here's an economics lesson for free. Your ten dollars can go fuck themselves."

REP: "HEY!"

I close the door, lock it, and go chill out of the lines of sight for a few minutes before returning to work.

I am curious as to how the copy place across the hall is going to respond, should the kid complain about "the rude maintenance guy".

(There is no maintenance guy for our building, we all clean our own spaces, so nobody is going to get in trouble at my expense.)

Just before I left the store, I noticed that one of the bulbs above the back issues was out. We seem to go through two or three bulbs a week (our lights also run on Windows 95), and I decided I would see how many bulbs were out and pick them up on the way to work tomorrow. The ones above the counter were out. The ones in the window were out. It seemed like every light in the store was....

​right, I'd turned the lights off.