A druggie goth looking gal I see once every few weeks just came in.
She looks like she's 45 but is probably in her late 20's, sporting acres of questionable tats and always at least a little bit of a pain in the ass.
She wasn't as hyper and spastic as usual today, which I take as a sign she couldn't find any meth.
She brought up a couple of things from our card rack (25 cents each) and we had this exchange:
her:
If a card is written on, do you still sell it?
me:
we try not to put them out if they're used, we throw them out.
her (holding out postcard):
Well this one's written on, can I have it for free?
me:
No.
her:
Why can't I just have it? I want to use it in my ZINE.
me:
What, your zine isn't worth a quarter? Content isn't worth a few pennies?
Gimme a break, it's a QUARTER!
her:
{starts digging in change purse}
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