I saw this on my Facebook feed. It’s so good, I decided it deserves its own space here. (Grab a tissue.)
I work in a decent sized, local, indie bookstore. It’s a great job 99% of the time and a lot of our customers are pretty neat people. Any who, middle of the day this little old lady comes up. She’s lovably kooky.
She effuses how much she loves the store and how she wishes she could spend more time in it but her husband is waiting in the car (“OH! I BETTER BUY HIM SOME CHOCOLATE!”), she piles a bunch of art supplies on the counter and then stops and tells me how my bangs are beautiful and remind her of the ocean. “Wooooosh” she says, making a wave gesture with her hand.
“Ok,” I think to myself. “Awesomely happy, weird little old ladies are my favorite kind of customer. They’re thrilled about everything and they’re comfortably bananas. I can have a good time with this one.” So we chat and it’s nice.
Then this kid, who’s been up my counter a few times to gather his school textbooks, comes up in line behind her. we’re connected to a major university in the city so we have a lot of harried students pass through. She turns around to him and, out of nowhere, demands that he put his textbooks on the counter. He’s confused but she explains that she’s going to buy his textbooks. Continue reading