transient #1, to his friend:
If I buy this will you read it?
transient #2:
no.
transient #1:
Charles Moon's Mescalaero Mask? You're not gonna read that?
transient #2:
no.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
True Customer Tales
alterna-gal discussing the merits of a pocket book with her aging hipster boyfriend:
Well.....it's got a dragon on the cover, that's really the only reason I like it.
Friday, June 26, 2009
contest over
Devra wins the who's name will the Fuss say first contest.
I asked the Wife who she was calling this morning, she answered "Devra" and the fuss echoed her with "Dea-duh", then did it a few more times.
Unofficial vocab list in rough order of appearance:
Dada
Dog
Bird
Done
Banana
Mama
Devra
I asked the Wife who she was calling this morning, she answered "Devra" and the fuss echoed her with "Dea-duh", then did it a few more times.
Unofficial vocab list in rough order of appearance:
Dada
Dog
Bird
Done
Banana
Mama
Devra
bounty
two stars of this week's organic produce haul- purple potatoes & red onions.
These random assortments have turned Thursdays into a weekly holiday, with gifts to open and a celebratory dinner.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
preparedness
The Wife reports this is the morning beverage of choice for Italian children.
When they reach the appropriate age, ten or eleven, they're transitioned to the hard stuff- straight coffee.
As I sat in the big chair huffing from a freshly opened pound of Peet's, this approach seemed fine and right.
Our crow was back on the deck earlier, yelling at its friends.
Fuss was mesmerized.
"Le Corbeau," the Wife croaked from her nest on the floor, built to shield us from a late night coughing fit.
Last time it was hummingbirds and blue jays.
What do crows portend?
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Thrift SCORE
picked up a really nice old Royal typewriter for five bucks.
works like a charm, pix will follow.
works like a charm, pix will follow.
Monday, June 22, 2009
worst jewelry I've ever seen
a middle aged dude, late 40's early 50's, with a good amount of graying ear hair, had a GOLDEN SPERM EAR STUD.
It inspired a genuine double-take as I was ringing him up.
"Bah.....WHUUUUUUUUH?"
It inspired a genuine double-take as I was ringing him up.
"Bah.....WHUUUUUUUUH?"
note to future self
You stopped wearing tee shirts with graphics to work because they compel weirdos to comment.
weirdo #1: uh where'd ya git that sheeirt?
me: the internet.
weirdo #2: whadda ya think that is, on yer shirt?
me: your guess is as good as mine.
w. #2: It looks sorta like a pig, but then it doesn't....and the gal looks sorta like Batwoman, but sorta doesn't.
me: Uh.
weirdo #1: uh where'd ya git that sheeirt?
me: the internet.
weirdo #2: whadda ya think that is, on yer shirt?
me: your guess is as good as mine.
w. #2: It looks sorta like a pig, but then it doesn't....and the gal looks sorta like Batwoman, but sorta doesn't.
me: Uh.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
restaurant review: Petra
Our new favorite spot for gyros and schwarma is right next door to our previous favorite, Jaffa Cafe.
I think originally they were a cooperative- I've seen one of the original Jaffa guys in the Petra kitchen. But some sort of falling out generated a cryptic enmity between the two factions.
The core menu items are similar, except that Petra offers pizzas (which I have yet to try).
But Petra has an ace up their sleeve- they bake their own pita bread.
Comparing fresh baked pita to the thin, cardboard-y junk you get at the supermarket (or Jaffa) is like comparing Gericault's original Raft of the Medusa to a postcard from the gift shop.
Jaffa does have better hummus.
But Petra's pita (and by extension their sandwiches & schwarma plates) are unbeatable.
I think originally they were a cooperative- I've seen one of the original Jaffa guys in the Petra kitchen. But some sort of falling out generated a cryptic enmity between the two factions.
The core menu items are similar, except that Petra offers pizzas (which I have yet to try).
But Petra has an ace up their sleeve- they bake their own pita bread.
Comparing fresh baked pita to the thin, cardboard-y junk you get at the supermarket (or Jaffa) is like comparing Gericault's original Raft of the Medusa to a postcard from the gift shop.
Jaffa does have better hummus.
But Petra's pita (and by extension their sandwiches & schwarma plates) are unbeatable.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
moar customers
From an older fellow purchasing a copy of Nevil Shute's A Town Like Alice for a rafting trip, the best response ever to "would you like a bag":
No thanks, I have a truck!
title(s) of the week
A pair from the recent flood of vampire romance swamping the market:
Last Vampire Standing
&
La Vida Vampire
by Nancy Haddock.
Last Vampire Standing
&
La Vida Vampire
by Nancy Haddock.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
best health care system in the world
this is what happened to my mom.
But hey, at least we're not SOCIALIST like every other industrialized nation on earth, right?
Any health care system that relies on capitalism and the 'free' market to give a shit about something besides the bottom line is doomed to fail.
An investigation by the House Subcommittee on Oversight and Investigations showed that health insurers WellPoint Inc., UnitedHealth Group and Assurant Inc. canceled the coverage of more than 20,000 people, allowing the companies to avoid paying more than $300 million in medical claims over a five-year period.
It also found that policyholders with breast cancer, lymphoma and more than 1,000 other conditions were targeted for rescission and that employees were praised in performance reviews for terminating the policies of customers with expensive illnesses.
But hey, at least we're not SOCIALIST like every other industrialized nation on earth, right?
Any health care system that relies on capitalism and the 'free' market to give a shit about something besides the bottom line is doomed to fail.
bunch of great new pics on Flickr
Check 'em out!
Great if you're obsessed with the Fuss, that is.
And don't mind my grizzled visage making a pre-morning ablutions appearance.
And just for June, here I am modeling one of my sweet new shirts.
Great if you're obsessed with the Fuss, that is.
And don't mind my grizzled visage making a pre-morning ablutions appearance.
And just for June, here I am modeling one of my sweet new shirts.
progress report
Fuss has taken his walking to the next level.
Not content to merely wander across rooms or down hallways, he's started charging around while waving his arms over his head like a monkey. Alternatively, he'll take a stroll waiving some relatively heavy impliment in the air with one hand- his metal harmonium top, or the wife's new copy of War & Peace by the good translators.
Plain walking isn't enough of a challenge, he's got to up the degree of difficulty.
Also, yesterday he said 'banana'.
I got a couple of repetitions to confirm the evidence of my ears.
First time around it sounded like "guh-nuh-nuh".
Following some banana waving and encouragement from me, he reprised it as
"Nah-nah".
Smart boy!
/edit
To underscore the point, moments after posting Fuss reared up and demanded breakfast by shouting "NAH-NAH!" at me.
Not content to merely wander across rooms or down hallways, he's started charging around while waving his arms over his head like a monkey. Alternatively, he'll take a stroll waiving some relatively heavy impliment in the air with one hand- his metal harmonium top, or the wife's new copy of War & Peace by the good translators.
Plain walking isn't enough of a challenge, he's got to up the degree of difficulty.
Also, yesterday he said 'banana'.
I got a couple of repetitions to confirm the evidence of my ears.
First time around it sounded like "guh-nuh-nuh".
Following some banana waving and encouragement from me, he reprised it as
"Nah-nah".
Smart boy!
/edit
To underscore the point, moments after posting Fuss reared up and demanded breakfast by shouting "NAH-NAH!" at me.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Title of the Week
ALL GOD'S CHILLUN GOT GUNS by Jed Cross
subtitle
subtitle
A white man.
A black man.
Two gunfighters against the world!
Monday, June 15, 2009
tees have arrived
All look way cooler than expected, plus the shirts themselves are super soft and high quality. The softness has me preparing defenses against inevitable predatory advances by the wife.
Watch Flickr for hot modeling shots.
Happy customer, will order again!
Watch Flickr for hot modeling shots.
Happy customer, will order again!
true customer tales SALLY EDITION
(technically I guess this belongs under the heading true ex-employee tales)
Sally paid a visit and introduced her kids on the way out the door.
The Girl, describing her brother The Boy:
Sally paid a visit and introduced her kids on the way out the door.
The Girl, describing her brother The Boy:
He's a scientist....a boy scientist.
True Customer Tales
white trash mom to her misbehaving young son with a shaved head:
JOHNATHAN RAY, DON'T MAKE ME GET THE BOARD!
HELL BABY
I don't know what's up with Fuss the last couple of days, but he's reverted to night terror status, waking up howling every hour or so. I'm assuming it's his teeth- they've started emerging in earnest, like a white picket fence sprouting organically from pink bubblegum soil.
Whatever the cause, it is an unwelcome flashback.
I've brokered a shaky truce with the 'early to rise' section of the parental bargain, but it's easier to enforce when the relentless screaming machine that is my son hasn't spent the night segmenting my sleep like links of sausage.
Whatever the cause, it is an unwelcome flashback.
I've brokered a shaky truce with the 'early to rise' section of the parental bargain, but it's easier to enforce when the relentless screaming machine that is my son hasn't spent the night segmenting my sleep like links of sausage.
retail prognosis
Borders is going to eat it.
The stock levels of the local box are horribly depleted and the store had even fewer employees than usual- which is saying something, given their traditionally spartan staffing levels.
The SF section was running about half its usual stock levels, and they'd tried to camouflage it by shrinking it down to one aisle from three and facing out a ton of stuff to make the expanded romance section look populated.
Their DVDs were even more picked over.
When a retail chain's stock starts looking obviously picked over, the writing is on the wall.
The stock levels of the local box are horribly depleted and the store had even fewer employees than usual- which is saying something, given their traditionally spartan staffing levels.
The SF section was running about half its usual stock levels, and they'd tried to camouflage it by shrinking it down to one aisle from three and facing out a ton of stuff to make the expanded romance section look populated.
Their DVDs were even more picked over.
When a retail chain's stock starts looking obviously picked over, the writing is on the wall.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
HE-shirts
Last week I wandered into the middle of a big $5 tee-shirt sale over at Threadless.
Longtime browser, first time buyer, as they used to say in the letters pages.
My tee shirts fall into two broad categories, Artifacts Of A Young Comic Geek and Boring Solid Colors from the Gap Sale Rack
Group A is older than hell and has been mostly co-opted by the wife. She loves anything soft, and it doesn't get much softer than a 15 year old tee shirt. Seeing her wandering around in a gory vintage Hard Boiled or Sin City tee amuses my inner nerd and confuses most everyone else, but once she claims a shirt it's out of circulation- "what are you doing wearing my shirt?" becomes the operative phrase. So Group A has shrunk dramatically over the years.
Group B doesn't inspire much enthusiasm- I mean, they're there when you need something to wear, but I never come across one in the drawer and think "Fun! This one's perfect for today!".
Threadless splits the sartorial difference between a closet full of longboxes & memorabilia and a generic air conditioned cube.
These lovelies should be arriving monday:
Longtime browser, first time buyer, as they used to say in the letters pages.
My tee shirts fall into two broad categories, Artifacts Of A Young Comic Geek and Boring Solid Colors from the Gap Sale Rack
Group A is older than hell and has been mostly co-opted by the wife. She loves anything soft, and it doesn't get much softer than a 15 year old tee shirt. Seeing her wandering around in a gory vintage Hard Boiled or Sin City tee amuses my inner nerd and confuses most everyone else, but once she claims a shirt it's out of circulation- "what are you doing wearing my shirt?" becomes the operative phrase. So Group A has shrunk dramatically over the years.
Group B doesn't inspire much enthusiasm- I mean, they're there when you need something to wear, but I never come across one in the drawer and think "Fun! This one's perfect for today!".
Threadless splits the sartorial difference between a closet full of longboxes & memorabilia and a generic air conditioned cube.
These lovelies should be arriving monday:
Friday, June 12, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Thrift SCORE
So we picked up a neat new butter knife yesterday and I noted that now we needed a neat butter tray to compliment.
Visited a tiny local thrift store to check out the books this afternoon, and voila!
Three bucks.
Can't beat that with a stick.
Visited a tiny local thrift store to check out the books this afternoon, and voila!
Three bucks.
Can't beat that with a stick.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Title of the Day
Family Circle Great Ground Beef Recipes
It also has a lovely cover, if only the scanner was working...
It also has a lovely cover, if only the scanner was working...
semi-gross memory
One of mom's boyfriends referred to ladies derrieres as "poopers".
As in, "she's got a nice tight pooper!"
*shudder*
As in, "she's got a nice tight pooper!"
*shudder*
Big Brass Ones
I rarely answer the phone but I picked up the other day because Fuss was napping and I didn't know where the machine's volume was set.
It was a slick fellow from some house painting company that had given mom an estimate. When he asked if she was available (hah!) I took a page from the wife's book and said "No, she died last year. This is her son".
This only briefly threw him off script and moments later he was delivering a full-throated sales pitch, like a racehorse swiftly recapturing their form after some jostling out of the gate.
I listened in slack-jawed amazement.
Capitalism writ large, ladies and gentlemen.
He wasn't as objectively disgusting as the many predators that descended because she died, but for some reason I found his cheery obliviousness more depressing.
It was a slick fellow from some house painting company that had given mom an estimate. When he asked if she was available (hah!) I took a page from the wife's book and said "No, she died last year. This is her son".
This only briefly threw him off script and moments later he was delivering a full-throated sales pitch, like a racehorse swiftly recapturing their form after some jostling out of the gate.
I listened in slack-jawed amazement.
Capitalism writ large, ladies and gentlemen.
He wasn't as objectively disgusting as the many predators that descended because she died, but for some reason I found his cheery obliviousness more depressing.
Monday, June 8, 2009
true customer tales: crazy as a loon edition
obviously crazy lady wanders up to counter.
crazy lady:
I REALLY need to use a phone man. I REALLY need to know where a phone booth is.
me (wishfully thinking that being helpful will stave off the insanity):
There's one at the Chamber of Commerce- down the street til you hit the mission, turn left about half a block.
crazy lady:
I been looking for a phone booth ALL DAY man, I really need a PHONE BOOTH.
me:
-repeats directions-
crazy lady, looking desperate:
-looks at ceiling and half-yells something incomprehensible-
me:
-goes back to pricing books and ignoring her-
crazy lady wanders halfway to door, turns around and says in a snotty little kid's voice:
So I just go down to the mission, then turn left and then fall in love, RIGHT?
Me, in my stern voice:
You need to leave. Right now.
crazy lady:
But I don't know the ADDRESS, I been looking for the chamber of commerce all day!
Me, pointing at door:
I don't know what their address is and I've already given you directions twice.
crazy lady, backing away:
Alright man, alright man...GOD BLESS!
crazy lady:
I REALLY need to use a phone man. I REALLY need to know where a phone booth is.
me (wishfully thinking that being helpful will stave off the insanity):
There's one at the Chamber of Commerce- down the street til you hit the mission, turn left about half a block.
crazy lady:
I been looking for a phone booth ALL DAY man, I really need a PHONE BOOTH.
me:
-repeats directions-
crazy lady, looking desperate:
-looks at ceiling and half-yells something incomprehensible-
me:
-goes back to pricing books and ignoring her-
crazy lady wanders halfway to door, turns around and says in a snotty little kid's voice:
So I just go down to the mission, then turn left and then fall in love, RIGHT?
Me, in my stern voice:
You need to leave. Right now.
crazy lady:
But I don't know the ADDRESS, I been looking for the chamber of commerce all day!
Me, pointing at door:
I don't know what their address is and I've already given you directions twice.
crazy lady, backing away:
Alright man, alright man...GOD BLESS!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
favorite coffee cups
Here are three.
In chronological order:
Mister Donut
It was liberated from a shop in Japan by the wife's not-quite-ex boyfriend, moonlighting as an English teacher. We'd just started seeing each other in earnest after a few false starts. Soon her tentative plans to cross the pond were dissolving in waves of 3am transatlantic calls.
I kept the cup in the settlement.
Bird Cup
When the whole bird thing was manifesting in the run-up to the Fuss' conception and birth I tripped over this beauty on the sale table at Urban Outfitters.
I like their sale table. I almost always find something worthwhile amidst the fluff & detritus the cool kids have passed over.
Diner Mug
Purchased from the coffee shop next to the store.
It weighs about five pounds empty and embodies one of my favorite design dichotomies- an aesthetically pleasing object that achieved its form by elevating function over all other considerations.
That ends badly nine times out of ten, but once in a great while the destination is sublime.
This one would be equally at home in a 1940's greasy spoon or the cupboard of Silverlake hipster.
In chronological order:
Mister Donut
It was liberated from a shop in Japan by the wife's not-quite-ex boyfriend, moonlighting as an English teacher. We'd just started seeing each other in earnest after a few false starts. Soon her tentative plans to cross the pond were dissolving in waves of 3am transatlantic calls.
I kept the cup in the settlement.
Bird Cup
When the whole bird thing was manifesting in the run-up to the Fuss' conception and birth I tripped over this beauty on the sale table at Urban Outfitters.
I like their sale table. I almost always find something worthwhile amidst the fluff & detritus the cool kids have passed over.
Diner Mug
Purchased from the coffee shop next to the store.
It weighs about five pounds empty and embodies one of my favorite design dichotomies- an aesthetically pleasing object that achieved its form by elevating function over all other considerations.
That ends badly nine times out of ten, but once in a great while the destination is sublime.
This one would be equally at home in a 1940's greasy spoon or the cupboard of Silverlake hipster.
true customer tales: Sale Cart Edition
two dudes on skateboards pull up.
dude one
Twenty five cent books, dawg!
dude two
Find me a badass book.
dude one
NINJAS DUDE, NINJAS!
dude one
Twenty five cent books, dawg!
dude two
Find me a badass book.
dude one
NINJAS DUDE, NINJAS!
breakfast liveblogging
Found the camera charger so it's back in play.
New fuss pix on flickr, and as an added bonus here is the very delicious breakfast I just consumed.
New fuss pix on flickr, and as an added bonus here is the very delicious breakfast I just consumed.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
kids movie review
Caught Igor last night with my niece the Fiend.
The animation was fairly mediocre, more Veggie Tales than Pixar. A lot of it had the hard shiny plastic look that was computer animation's calling card for years.
But the story was clever and engaging (a country of Mad Scientists and their generic hunchbacked assistant Igors competing in a yearly invention contest) and it had a stellar cast of voice actors- John Cusack, Steve Bushemi, Eddie Izzard, Sean Hayes, John Cleese, Jennifer Coolidge. They were so good it was almost distracting, as their somewhat limited characters struggled to keep up.
It was fun, got a couple of genuine laffs out of me and kept both me and the Fiend entertained throughout. The story was probably a little bit complex for her, but she kept up with only the occasional question about this or that plot point. I'd say it would appeal most to the 9-12 demographic.
If you're looking for something colorful to watch with a kid, you could do a lot worse.
The animation was fairly mediocre, more Veggie Tales than Pixar. A lot of it had the hard shiny plastic look that was computer animation's calling card for years.
But the story was clever and engaging (a country of Mad Scientists and their generic hunchbacked assistant Igors competing in a yearly invention contest) and it had a stellar cast of voice actors- John Cusack, Steve Bushemi, Eddie Izzard, Sean Hayes, John Cleese, Jennifer Coolidge. They were so good it was almost distracting, as their somewhat limited characters struggled to keep up.
It was fun, got a couple of genuine laffs out of me and kept both me and the Fiend entertained throughout. The story was probably a little bit complex for her, but she kept up with only the occasional question about this or that plot point. I'd say it would appeal most to the 9-12 demographic.
If you're looking for something colorful to watch with a kid, you could do a lot worse.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Miko Blog
Just tracked down The Grandmaster's blog of record reviews.
As he's never steered me wrong I link here for the enjoyment and edification of the Baxblog masses.
Baxblog Trivia:
My wedding was Malik's first paying DJ gig.
We're famous by association!
As he's never steered me wrong I link here for the enjoyment and edification of the Baxblog masses.
Baxblog Trivia:
My wedding was Malik's first paying DJ gig.
We're famous by association!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
portents of awfulness
Watched a notably bad film the other evening- Feast of Love.
I'm not sure why the wife had me add it to the Netflix, but it appeared in the mailbox accompanied by the stench of brimstone and a cloud of deformed bats.
It's on the verge of being so bad it's good. I'm still not sure about that.
I'm certainly not going to watch it again to find out, but the braver among you might give it a try.
Selling points:
- Selma Blair takes off her shirt and makes out with a lady.
- Rhada Mitchell parades around nude for a good ten minutes in the middle of the proceedings, including the (increasingly rare) full frontal.
- It has one of the best WTF endings of recent times, when the dude the gypsy predicted would die young goes up to catch a pass in the climactic touch football game...and the ball kills him.
We were big fans of this development as moments earlier the wife commented "you know what would save this film? A meteor coming down and killing everybody."
Close enough!
It also had notably awful dialog, which surprised me because it was adapted from a novel. The nadir arrived during a coda following the tragic touch football game (possibly the only instance of good dramatic structure in the entire film), when Greg Kinnear addressed the perpetually long suffering Morgan Freeman with the line
Morgan showed his professionalism by not bursting into gales of laughter, although who knows how many takes they needed.
So, an awful film, may or may not be worth watching. You've been advised.
I'm not sure why the wife had me add it to the Netflix, but it appeared in the mailbox accompanied by the stench of brimstone and a cloud of deformed bats.
It's on the verge of being so bad it's good. I'm still not sure about that.
I'm certainly not going to watch it again to find out, but the braver among you might give it a try.
Selling points:
- Selma Blair takes off her shirt and makes out with a lady.
- Rhada Mitchell parades around nude for a good ten minutes in the middle of the proceedings, including the (increasingly rare) full frontal.
- It has one of the best WTF endings of recent times, when the dude the gypsy predicted would die young goes up to catch a pass in the climactic touch football game...and the ball kills him.
We were big fans of this development as moments earlier the wife commented "you know what would save this film? A meteor coming down and killing everybody."
Close enough!
It also had notably awful dialog, which surprised me because it was adapted from a novel. The nadir arrived during a coda following the tragic touch football game (possibly the only instance of good dramatic structure in the entire film), when Greg Kinnear addressed the perpetually long suffering Morgan Freeman with the line
If God hated us, he wouldn't have made our hearts so brave.
Morgan showed his professionalism by not bursting into gales of laughter, although who knows how many takes they needed.
So, an awful film, may or may not be worth watching. You've been advised.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
cover, title and blurb of the day
A rare trifecta from the usually staid, respectable Meyer Levin.
GORE AND IGOR
A Big, Sexy Novel About the Global Youthquake
and on the back cover:
Whuff!
GORE AND IGOR
A Big, Sexy Novel About the Global Youthquake
and on the back cover:
Tom Jones, Baby, You've Had It!
Here come Gore and Igor!
Whuff!
anthology
Each day brings a selection of mildly amusing/entertaining/mystifying events or interactions that don't quite make it over the bar for their own post, but which still rise far enough above most generic retail happenings to stick in my erratic memory.
Here is today's quota, preserved for posterity in bloggy amber.
Five people have come in asking if they could get applications (which we don't have), only one of them had a resume handy. Kids, learn from the scouts- BE PREPARED!
The flyleaf of Philip Roth's novel The Breast reads, in burnt orange text on a maroon background,
A guy was herding a large class of kids past the door and paused to point out the store-
"Kids! KIDS! This is the used book store, where you can go if you don't want to buy the book new!"
One kid in the herd immediately began shrieking incoherently, and they moved on up the road.
A gal came in looking for The Tao of Pooh, which we had. Then she wondered if we had The Te of Piglet, which we did not.
I gave her my usual spiel about the unreliability of used book supply, how we never know when or if something will show up, but to keep checking.
Ten minutes later a gal came in with three boxes of books to sell, including (of course) a bright shiny copy of The Te of Piglet sitting right on top.
This happens much to often to be coincidence.
One of the oddball regulars (who buys just enough stuff to avoid re-classification as retail parasite) parked himself at the counter with a story to tell.
He'd sent away for a catalog he thought might interest me as "a fellow book professional". He dug around in his omnipresent duffel bag and fished it out for display. It was neatly wrapped and tied with string, the way my great grandmother used to tie her packages, and the object itself had a lovely cover of handmade paper.
"It came from India," he said. "You don't get this kind of thing here! Over there, labor is cheap."
A weird redneck-ish dude who carries on like he's doing us a huge favor every time he buys a book came in with an even more dyed-in-the-wool redneck buddy.
"See, look, I even bring MORE people!" he half-shouted on his way past the counter.
His buddy chimed in en route to the construction section, in a loud, weirdly gulping voice,
"why we even need books anymore hah hah we got the internet now hah hah why we even need to buy books hah hah internet's free hah hah..."
Here is today's quota, preserved for posterity in bloggy amber.
Five people have come in asking if they could get applications (which we don't have), only one of them had a resume handy. Kids, learn from the scouts- BE PREPARED!
The flyleaf of Philip Roth's novel The Breast reads, in burnt orange text on a maroon background,
The story of the man who turned into a female breast.
A guy was herding a large class of kids past the door and paused to point out the store-
"Kids! KIDS! This is the used book store, where you can go if you don't want to buy the book new!"
One kid in the herd immediately began shrieking incoherently, and they moved on up the road.
A gal came in looking for The Tao of Pooh, which we had. Then she wondered if we had The Te of Piglet, which we did not.
I gave her my usual spiel about the unreliability of used book supply, how we never know when or if something will show up, but to keep checking.
Ten minutes later a gal came in with three boxes of books to sell, including (of course) a bright shiny copy of The Te of Piglet sitting right on top.
This happens much to often to be coincidence.
One of the oddball regulars (who buys just enough stuff to avoid re-classification as retail parasite) parked himself at the counter with a story to tell.
He'd sent away for a catalog he thought might interest me as "a fellow book professional". He dug around in his omnipresent duffel bag and fished it out for display. It was neatly wrapped and tied with string, the way my great grandmother used to tie her packages, and the object itself had a lovely cover of handmade paper.
"It came from India," he said. "You don't get this kind of thing here! Over there, labor is cheap."
A weird redneck-ish dude who carries on like he's doing us a huge favor every time he buys a book came in with an even more dyed-in-the-wool redneck buddy.
"See, look, I even bring MORE people!" he half-shouted on his way past the counter.
His buddy chimed in en route to the construction section, in a loud, weirdly gulping voice,
"why we even need books anymore hah hah we got the internet now hah hah why we even need to buy books hah hah internet's free hah hah..."
true customer tales
jittery, skinny older guy with a droopy mustache and a nylon ball cap:
Hey, Hi there, I was just wondering- do you fancy yourself something of a wordsmith?
me, Nut Alarm resounding in my ears:
No.
Guy:
Oh, hey, that's too bad, because I was just looking for some help with maybe finding some different words to use.
Me:
What sort of help are you looking for?
Guy, proffering stack of papers:
I was wondering if you could read this and give me some ideas about different ways to say things?
Me:
No, sorry.
He rattled his papers and scurried out the door to look for some other human thesaurus.
Hey, Hi there, I was just wondering- do you fancy yourself something of a wordsmith?
me, Nut Alarm resounding in my ears:
No.
Guy:
Oh, hey, that's too bad, because I was just looking for some help with maybe finding some different words to use.
Me:
What sort of help are you looking for?
Guy, proffering stack of papers:
I was wondering if you could read this and give me some ideas about different ways to say things?
Me:
No, sorry.
He rattled his papers and scurried out the door to look for some other human thesaurus.
Monday, June 1, 2009
true customer tales
A bumper crop today.
Five-ish year old boy holding a book, to his mom:
There are so many BOOKS!
*winds up and pitches book at the wall*
Five-ish year old boy holding a book, to his mom:
There are so many BOOKS!
*winds up and pitches book at the wall*
GRATZ to PELF
via email:
Wee Diego evens out the domestic karma of clan Pelfrey, joining his father to balance out sister Paloma and mother Alicia.
His name was inspired by Diego 'Chico' Corrales, the victorious boxer in the greatest lightweight title fight of all time.
Best to the fam, and I demand PIX!
Pelf Spawned...again
Diego Pelfrey, 6 pounds, 5 of that pure NUTS.
5-25-09, 7am
Wee Diego evens out the domestic karma of clan Pelfrey, joining his father to balance out sister Paloma and mother Alicia.
His name was inspired by Diego 'Chico' Corrales, the victorious boxer in the greatest lightweight title fight of all time.
Best to the fam, and I demand PIX!
true customer tales: SALE CART edition
alterna-dude wanders up with a couple of quarter books.
"That'll be fifty-four cents."
He proffers a debit card, sort of half-heartedly, like even he knows how ridiculous it is.
"Do you guys take....."
"For fifty cents? No, we don't. Would you like me to hold those for you?"
Happy ending:
He bummed a buck off his girlfriend and was able to take his men's adventure novels home after all.
"That'll be fifty-four cents."
He proffers a debit card, sort of half-heartedly, like even he knows how ridiculous it is.
"Do you guys take....."
"For fifty cents? No, we don't. Would you like me to hold those for you?"
Happy ending:
He bummed a buck off his girlfriend and was able to take his men's adventure novels home after all.
true customer stories
There's a fresh crazy downtown, a rotund gal who always wears a striped red and white knit cap and giant sunglasses and totes around a bunch of junk in several white plastic grocery bags. She has a bizarre accent I can't place.
She does the thing several of them do, put stuff on hold that they never buy.
I don't know if it's wishful thinking, or an effort to look like a paying customer so you'll put up with their shit for longer. But it's a definite symptom.
She approaches the counter and I grab a stack of books to price, an ever-helpful buffer when dealing with problem shoppers.
"Excuse me, I bought a book here last week....a few weeks ago, maybe a month ago, and someone stole it."
"Mmmm."
"I was wondering, do you have another copy?"
"If we did it'd be in the same section as the one you picked up."
"Oh, okay."
She wanders off.
But I knew it wasn't going to be that easy.
The book was just a claim on her real target, my time and attention.
A few minutes later, she's back.
"Excuse me, but it was on that table over there?" Gesturing at the new arrivals table.
"That's for new arrivals, we file books off the table into their sections. Do you know the subject?"
"Uh...contemporary?"
"Contemporary what? Is it a novel, is it about construction, what?"
"Nonfiction?"
"Okay, that's ninety percent of the store. Can you narrow it down any more?"
"Uhm, events? Contemporary events?"
"That might go upstairs with history."
"I can't walk up the stairs."
"Oh well, sorry."
*back to pricing books*
This one, I didn't feel bad about.
She does the thing several of them do, put stuff on hold that they never buy.
I don't know if it's wishful thinking, or an effort to look like a paying customer so you'll put up with their shit for longer. But it's a definite symptom.
She approaches the counter and I grab a stack of books to price, an ever-helpful buffer when dealing with problem shoppers.
"Excuse me, I bought a book here last week....a few weeks ago, maybe a month ago, and someone stole it."
"Mmmm."
"I was wondering, do you have another copy?"
"If we did it'd be in the same section as the one you picked up."
"Oh, okay."
She wanders off.
But I knew it wasn't going to be that easy.
The book was just a claim on her real target, my time and attention.
A few minutes later, she's back.
"Excuse me, but it was on that table over there?" Gesturing at the new arrivals table.
"That's for new arrivals, we file books off the table into their sections. Do you know the subject?"
"Uh...contemporary?"
"Contemporary what? Is it a novel, is it about construction, what?"
"Nonfiction?"
"Okay, that's ninety percent of the store. Can you narrow it down any more?"
"Uhm, events? Contemporary events?"
"That might go upstairs with history."
"I can't walk up the stairs."
"Oh well, sorry."
*back to pricing books*
This one, I didn't feel bad about.
Choose your poison
Attention NERD BOYS:
You can get away with an ill-fitting naval orange V-neck tee shirt.
You can get away with a patchy, neo-homeless adolescent beard.
You can get away with a greasy mop of unwashed hair that looks like you cut it with your eyes closed using pinking shears.
You can get away with oversized Buddy Holly glasses that look like they came from a novelty shop.
You can even get away with dirty Muffin Top jeans that accentuate your jelly-roll midriff.
You CANNOT get away with all of them at once.
You can get away with an ill-fitting naval orange V-neck tee shirt.
You can get away with a patchy, neo-homeless adolescent beard.
You can get away with a greasy mop of unwashed hair that looks like you cut it with your eyes closed using pinking shears.
You can get away with oversized Buddy Holly glasses that look like they came from a novelty shop.
You can even get away with dirty Muffin Top jeans that accentuate your jelly-roll midriff.
You CANNOT get away with all of them at once.
true customer tales
A vociferous homeless dude, cleaner than most, seeks me out in the stacks.
"Hey man, I'm homeless and I only have a dollar. The library's closed today. Do you have any books for a dollar?"
"There's a dollar cart inside the door."
"Nah, I didn't see anything on the quarter cart."
"That's outside the door- the dollar cart is inside."
"Oh! Oh man! Look at that! Oh!"
I went back to shelving as he waxed rhapsodic, his stream of consciousness trailing after me into the next room.
He scared off a couple of people with his babbling before he found a winner.
In the interest of moving him efficiently along the path of his day I asked for a dollar even, ignoring Ahnuld's share.
He insisted on tipping me with a monolog.
I responded with the sort of dead eyed disinterest only a veteran of the retail wars can muster.
"Y'know, this book is really interesting, I mean look at the size of the type- it's really big. I think that's fascinating, because he's Eastern. I bet he has a lot to say, so he had to use the big type...."
I interrupted.
"MMmmhmmm..........that'll be a dollar."
He exhibited more awareness of our interaction than I expected.
"Oh.....you're not interested."
"I've got a lot of work to do."
I feel sort of bad about it. He's got some sort of mental problem and he's desperate for human interaction, which I can sympathize with. But I'm absolutely the wrong guy to mook for your fix, having issues of my own.
"Hey man, I'm homeless and I only have a dollar. The library's closed today. Do you have any books for a dollar?"
"There's a dollar cart inside the door."
"Nah, I didn't see anything on the quarter cart."
"That's outside the door- the dollar cart is inside."
"Oh! Oh man! Look at that! Oh!"
I went back to shelving as he waxed rhapsodic, his stream of consciousness trailing after me into the next room.
He scared off a couple of people with his babbling before he found a winner.
In the interest of moving him efficiently along the path of his day I asked for a dollar even, ignoring Ahnuld's share.
He insisted on tipping me with a monolog.
I responded with the sort of dead eyed disinterest only a veteran of the retail wars can muster.
"Y'know, this book is really interesting, I mean look at the size of the type- it's really big. I think that's fascinating, because he's Eastern. I bet he has a lot to say, so he had to use the big type...."
I interrupted.
"MMmmhmmm..........that'll be a dollar."
He exhibited more awareness of our interaction than I expected.
"Oh.....you're not interested."
"I've got a lot of work to do."
I feel sort of bad about it. He's got some sort of mental problem and he's desperate for human interaction, which I can sympathize with. But I'm absolutely the wrong guy to mook for your fix, having issues of my own.
the commute
On this morning's drive I passed an old man in a dirty mechanic's jumpsuit pissing into traffic from an overpass.
Doubtless another portent of "these troubled economic times".
Doubtless another portent of "these troubled economic times".
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