|I wish my customers|
dressed this snazzily.
When I started working at my store, I lamented our lack of regulars. Box stores just aren't cool enough to have groupies. I'm sure some of our customers do come regularly, just not regularly enough to be known on sight.
Or so I thought.
Turns out that my store has quite the odd little following. I only work a few days a week (two jobs, remember), but I've seen the same faces again and again, and I thought it was high time to introduce them to you.
The very first set of regulars I'd ever heard of was Those Homeless... Guys. Okay, it sounds like an insensitive title, but let me explain. Almost every day, a homeless couple comes into our store. They rarely buy anything, but my boss never minds because they're very polite and always put up whatever they take out to read. We never really know what to call them, because the taller one is very clearly a Homeless Guy. He's ratty with a full-on-beard and a huge backpack filled with all his things. His companion is shorter and stockier and also clearly a Homeless Guy... until you realize that from the neck down, his anatomy very clearly says Homeless Chick. I'm not just talking about a girl with an androgynous face. I'm talking about very, very mixed signals. When you're instructed to address people as sir or ma'am, such a situation can be very awkward.
Another regular (who, for some reason, only ever seems to come on my days in) is The Doomsday Prepper. He's a big guy with an bristly grey beard and camo pants, but he's pretty normal other than his reading choices. At least, that's what I thought until the day he came in looking for The Anarchist's Cookbook. You know, the wackjob bomb-making book? Even then, I probably wouldn't have been too concerned if he hadn't kept trying to reassure me that he was just curious and not a nutjob. The more someone tries to convince you that everything's okay, the more you should worry. That's my personal motto. Then he warned me that the Feds would probably come asking around, but that it would be okay, because he's just "John Q. Public... just John Q. Public." But he called me hun, so I should probably be okay.
Of course, not every regular is so much fun.
Another regular, The Returner, was actually warned to stop being so regular. All the stores in our area were warned to watch for her, because she got in the bad habit of buying books and then returning them a few days later... after reading them, of course. Oddly, she had a special penchant for reading and returning different versions of the Bible. I'm not sure why.
The Cheapskate, on the other hand, is a regular we wish we could wave away. Now, I love a deal as much as the next girl, but this lady toodles on in every week in her Hoverround to paw through the sale books. But she doesn't stop there, oh no. She hunts down books with superficial damage and tries to bargain. Now if a book has moderate to severe damage, we can offer a 10% discount, but that's all. Look, lady, I appreciate that you want to save money, but if you think you're going to get me to give you a book for half-off, you're nuts.
There are other regulars, such as The Monday Group, The Outdoorsy Girly-Girl, and The Woman with the Awesome Hair. I have to say they all certainly make work interesting.
Do you have interesting regulars where you work? And if you were a regular at my store, what do you think YOUR moniker would be?
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