Honest Conversation Is Overrated
Actual Human Interactions Witnessed Or Overheard
In Twentieth And Twenty-First Century America
In Twentieth And Twenty-First Century America
Obviously, I much prefer the loiterers of Beverly to the loiterers of Harvard Square (the customers at Harvard were rarely the problem ... not never the problem ... but rarely the problem). But this dude who is "testing" our dice by tossing each die against the table over and over to listen to the sound of them, I'm going to roll his head out into the street and listen to the sound of it bouncing through the traffic.
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Last week, there was a wonderful moment of Terrible Humanity.
While my Coworker was on Dinner Break (of course), a Cis-Male and Cis-female entered the store. CM was walking around, picking up books, and Educating CF on comic history. Incorrectly, of course. CM: Do you know about X-Men? It started in the 80s, it's this pro-diversity comic that thinks being Canadian is being diverse. If you're into progressive metaphors, it's ok. Have you read Batman Year One? CF: Yes. I've read all of Miller's DC and Marvel stuff. Even the Superman Year One he just did. CM: Batman Year One is different. CF: I. Know. I've read both of them. CM: You probably read Wonder Woman, right? CF sighs and walks away while CM continues babbling. I sharpen my Killin' The Patriarchy Stick. CF eventually grows bored enough to leave while CM is still talking at her. Me: Dude. She left. She's gone. CM: Oh. He continues to putter around, but stays mercifully silent. Until. A guy around the same age comes in, walks over to him and nods his head. New Cis Male: Hey. CM: Hey. Have you read Frank Miller's Daredevil. Some people think Bendis's run in the best of the series, but without Miller's foundation it's just fluff. You know? I found myself relieved to realize this person wasn't a Mansplaining Dudebag. He was a condescending jerkface to everyone, regardless of gender identity. I have reached the point in my retail observation where even that feels like somewhat of a victory. Today the red line was running late for reasons not listed on any apps, or revealed through their social media. As a result, I waited about twenty minutes at Downtown Crossing for the red line to come, making me about five minutes late for work.
While I was walking down the platform, I saw one of our subscribers and gave him a head nod. He either didn't see me or didn't recognize me, and didn't respond, which is totally fine. When the T finally arrived, he got on the same car, and sat down across from me. When we arrived at Harvard, he trotted up the ramps and the escalator, so that I was still getting on the bottom escalator as he was exiting the top. I watched him turn the corner toward the store, as I passed where Curious George used to be. Clearly, he was going to the store, so I picked up the pace, and probably arrived about forty-five seconds after he did. Me: "Hey." Repeated Customer: "There you are. I've been waiting, like, ten minutes for you to get here." Fuck. Off. Me: "No. You just got here. We were on the same train. I was sitting across from you." RC: "I've been waiting ten minutes. I was about to leave." So I shrugged, turned around, went to the CVS and bought some energy drinks. He wasn't here when I got back. I'm not starting my day by enabling liars. Regular I Haven't Missed: Do you have FandangoNow?
Me: Nope. RIHM: Well, the other day, I saw that there was an animated movie on the service that I'd never heard of before. I don't remember the name of it. Me: Ok. RIHM: It looks like it's by an artist that I hate, do you know the artist Blah Blah Blah Nobody Cares? Me: Nope. RIHM: Well, it looks just like his stuff. And his stuff is awful. Me: Ok. RIHM: I went to watch it, and it wasn't very good. But at least it wasn't by Blah Blah Blah Nobody Cares. It still stunk, though. Me: Ok. RIHM: I think you can also find it on Youtube. Me: So you're saying there's a terrible show, that you hate,and don't even know the name of, on a streaming service I don't have access to, and I should commit my time to tracking it down on Youtube. Why? RIHM: Huh? Me: Why would I seek out something you just told me was awful? RIHM: Maybe you would like it. Me: Nah. I very much don't miss Saturdays here. Random Vendor: Hi, can I talk with (Former Coworker Name)?
Me: They haven't worked here in years. RV: I guess I haven't called in a year. Me: It's been ten years since they left. RV: Are you sure? Me: Yeup. They trained me, and left a few months later. RV: Can you get me their personal number? Me: Nope. We don't have it. LIAR! RV: How would I go about selling my product to you? Me: What is it? RV: It's a fanzine. Me: About comics? RV: No. Me: ... uhhh ... why don't you call you back on Friday and talk with the owner? RV: Does he have their number? Me: Nope. I delete the person's phone number out of our computer, and write it on a note, to add it back in a couple of weeks, when I'm certain the person won't call again. RV: It's pretty important that I get in touch with them. Me: If you leave your contact info, I can pass it along to them. We have some mutual friends. This is another lie. I see them every few months. RV: I don't feel comfortable giving my number out to someone I don't know. Me: RIGHT? I hear you. RV: Will they be in next week? Me: No, dude, they DON'T WORK HERE anymore. At all. Ever. And haven't in a decade. Your info is way out of date. RV: That can't be right. Me: It's right. RV: Who have I been talking to? Me: Couldn't tell you. But we haven't carried that book in the decade that I've worked here. RV: NO. I send them out to you every year. Me: Nope. Never seen it before. RV: Is this Name Of Store That's Not Even In The Comic Book Industry? Me: No. It's Store Name. RV: OH. Yea, you guys don't carry my books. Me: We sure don't. RV: I didn't even know Former Coworker Name worked there. Me: I'm thinking now that it is an entirely different person with that very common name. RV: Wow. I just wasted a ton of my time. Me: Mmmmmmm. RV: Do you happen to have the phone number of Store That's Not Even In The Comic Book Industry? Me: Nope. This is yet another lie. I have Le Google. But I'm not going to le use it. RV grunts and hangs up. I re-add the former coworker's contact info into the computer. Nosey Guy Who Always Comes In And Expects Me To Give Him A Free Therapy Session Because He Is Lonely And I Am Trapped In A Store: "I have a date tonight."
Me: "Huh." NG: "It's tough you know." Me: "Mmmmm." NG: "Are you married?" Me: "Nope." NG: "Divorced?" Me: "Nope." NG: "Ever been in a relationship?" Me: "Probably." NG: "I hear you. Do you ever want to be married?" Me: "Eh." NG: "A lot of guys don't realize they need relationships." Me: "Mmmm." NG: "You know what I mean?" Me: "Nope." NG: "You seem to have it all figured it out." Me: "Sure." Comrade Via Text: "What are we doing for dinner?" I start to type. NG: "I've been dating a long time. I could tell you some stories." Me: "Sure." CvT, before I can text a reply: "Wait, you're going out tonight, right?" Me via Text: "Yep. But I should still be home moderately early. Be aware, I'm going to have an entire bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling cider. I hope you're prepared for the consequences." NG: "Sure do have a lot of stories." Me: "Sure." CvT: "Mreowr?" Me: "Anything I can help you find?" NG: "I kind of want to go over there." He points to the section that I have blocked off. Me: "Sorry. It's closed today." NG: "Like your heart." Me: "Like my patience." He leaves without buying anything. Me via Text: "Are you hanging out with the dust mops." CvT: "No. Shit Ostrich is lazy on the bookcase, Goose is lazy on the floor. I'm lazy on the bed. We are all unimpressed with Monday." MvT: "Same. You should hang out with Shit Ostrich. You seem to be a good influence on her." CvT: "On the bookcase? That seems dangerous." MvT: "Got it. Sturdier bookcases." CvT: "Sure? I wouldn't make that a priority." Like I've ever had any sense of priority. Me: I don't understand why our coworker refuses to break down boxes. Maybe he has better hearing than us, and can hear the boxes scream like lobsters when you cut into them with the box cutter?
Cuts the side of a box. Me: Eeeeeeeeeeee! Cuts down center of a box. Me: Nooooooooo! Cuts down other side of box. Me: Whyyyyyyyyy? Coworker: You're creepy. You know that? I pick up a second box, and cut down the side. Me: Let them eat cake! Cuts down center. Me: Viva la revolution! Cuts down other side. Met: It's not gallows humor if you're in the audience. The difference is in the execution! Random Loiterer: "Excuse me, can we come in and look around?"
Me: "NO. IT'S NOT ALLOWED." RL: "Hahahaha. Thank you." **** First customer of the day is a subscriber who is particularly persnickety. He is in the middle of, once again, explaining to me the various discounts he gets at various stores, when Baron Von Poopypants comes in. BvPP: "OH THANK GOD." Persnickety Subscriber: "Are you ok?" BvPP: "Yea. New England Comics always havs the books that I want but they never have them, you know? I need to buy the new Nick Spencer Spider-Man books so I can be up to date for my role playing, and they don't have them but thank god you do." PS: "Oh." BvPP: "My girlfriend" who doesn't exist "isn't going to be happy that I have all these Spidery books, but she likes the role playing, you know?" PS: "Oh." I tell him the price of his books. BvPP: "I don't mean to be rude, but can I have a bag for ten cents?" Me: "That's not rude at all. Here you go." BvPP: "Off to role play!" He stenches out. PS: "I ... I thought he was talking about ... you know ... dice and ... ewwwwwwww ... Ewwww. Ewww. Ewwww." *** Random Loiterer: "Hi!" Me: "Hey. How are you today?" RL: "Do you remember me?" Me: "I don't." RL: "My name is Steve. I'm Moira's brother." Me: "Sorry. I don't know who Moira is." RL: "I came in and sold you hundreds of dollars worth of Mad Magazines about thirty years ago." Me: "Ah. I was in fifth grade thirty years ago. So you were talking to somebody else." RL: "I'm pretty sure it was you." I shrug. RL: "Do you know who I would have talked to?" Me: "Again. I was ten. I didn't live anywhere near here. I have no idea." RL: "It's pretty much the same staff, right?" Me: "No. There have been a few changes in the last Thirty Years." RL: "Do you have any Mad Magazines?" Me: "Sure. They're over here." RL: "I probably sold them to you." Me: "Thirty years ago? I think we've rotated through stock a couple of times since then." RL: "They're all cover price, right? I'm just joshing you." I've known many a Josh in my day, and all of them are cooler than anyone who has ever used the word "josh" as a verb. I'm really content that "adaming" isn't a buzz word that corpses use when they're being annoying. RL: "Hey, this box set here? How much is it?" Me: "I don't know, let me look it up." It takes me a while because it's a box set of old EC hardcovers that have probably been in the store since he sold us those Mad Magazines. I can't figure out the actual name of the box set, there is no bar code on it, and it doesn't come up in the Diamond Search Engine. Just as I find it, he starts to haggle. Though I have not given him a price. RL: "I've seen it online for about two hundred dollars." Me: "Ok." It's available from the publisher for $150. It's on Amazon from $85-$150. RL: "I'll give you $125 for it." This is perfectly reasonable. But he's annoying. Me: "Call it $150?" which, again, is the actual price of it, if you order it new from the publisher. RL: "Deal." He picks up a couple of Mad Magazines, and some old Peanuts books. It comes to $249.73 Me: "That will be $265.73." RL: "Can you knock that down to $250 for me?" Me: "I sure can." Rude child enters the store, grabs a book from the shelf, and yelps as she plops down in the middle of the floor. Something about this is familiar.
Ah, yes. Dipshit Father comes in next. DSF starts pipcking up books on the table. "I was supposed to get this in my subscription I haven-" Me: "It's Monday. New books come in on Monday for Wednesday. We've talked about this many times." DSF: "Oh yes." He keeps pawing through the books. Annoyed Daughter picks up a Raina Tegelmeir book and starts reading. DSF: "Do you want me to buy that f--" AD: "I DON'T WANT TO BUY IT! I AM JUST READING IT!" DSF: "THIS ISN'T A LIBRARY. IT'S A BOOKSTORE! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF--" AD: "DAD I'M JUST READING IT. YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING I WANT TO DO. I HATE YOU!" This exact scenario has happened here before. There's more screaming. Then whispering. Then they walk to separate parts of the store. Later, the daughter starts pawing at a Vampirella comic on the table. DSF: "YOU CAN'T TOUCH THAT! It's not for sale yet." Me: "It's fine. You can look it. I just can't sell it yet." AD: "See, DAD. I'm not going to BUY IT. I just wanted to look at her costume. IT'S SEXY." DSF: "NO SEXY COMICS." I walk away to work on the computer and be out of their bickering range. When they are done wandering around the store, occasionally yelling at each other, DSF comes up to the counter and puts down a book. Then, in tune to the Talking Heads song that's playing he shouts "I CAN'T SING OR PLAY MUSIC. I SUCK AND EVERYONE HATES ME BUT I KEEP RECORDING MUSIC EVEN THOUGH I CAN'T SING BECAUSE I'M AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWFUL." Me: "That will be thirteen dollars and eighty cents." DSF: "What about my subscr--" Me: "Your subscription discount is for books you pre-order. We've talked about this before. You are NOT getting a discount for anything that isn't from your folder." DSF: "I should just put this in my folder until next time then." Me: "That's not how it works." DSF: "I DON'T KNOW HOW TO MAKE MUSIC BUT I WON'T STOP ANNOYING PEOPLE WITH MY HORRIBLE VOICE." Random Loiterer: "Could you please stop screaming? It's really frustrating." DSF, sarcastically: "I'm reeeeeeeeeeeally sorry." Me: "You need to leave. Like, right now." DSF: "Oh, ok. DAUGHTER'S NAME. WE HAVE TO GO." AD, quietly: "I hate you so much." They, along with an older brother who kept so much distance from both of them, that I hadn't even realized he was in the store, go up the stairs. RL: "Oh my god. Are you ok?" Me: "Yea. I was going to ask the same of you. I'm really sorry you had to be there for that." RL: "Those poor kids. That guy is .. I don't even know." Me: "He's here every month or so. Sometimes with his kids, sometimes alone. He's always unpleasant, but that was extreme, even for him. I sincerely hope he doesn't have custody of those kids, and that they only have to endure him on weekends and holidays." Then I went back to counting books, and they went back to looking at books until the store filled up with other delightful people. Random Loiterer: "How much are the comics behind you?"
Me: "They vary in price between $25 and $200 depending on condition." RL: "I used to have a paper route when I was a kid." Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. RL: "And I would save up my money. And I had all the Marvel books for several years." Me: "Great." RL: "We kept them all bagged and boarded, and safe in boxes in the attic. But one year they tarred the roof, and some of it dripped on the boxes, so now they're not in great shape. But better than the ones you have here." Me: "Huh." RL: "I give them to my nephew to read. They're the best comic stories. I don't want to waste his time with the Black Spider-Man and ... didn't they kill Captain America and replace him with a Black guy, too?" I continue typing things into the computer. RL: "Didn't they?" Me: "Didn't they what?" RL: "Kill Captain America and replace him with a Black Guy? That kind of stuff is too confusing for a kid. Don't you think?" I continue typing things into the computer. RL: "Maybe I'm wrong, but --" Me: "I have work to do, and my boss says I don't have to talk to racists. Bye." RL: "I--" Me: "BYE." He left without buying anything. |
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