‘Hem. Sorry, I briefly turned into a seventeen-year-old cheerleading vice captain from New Mexico. It’s been known to happen from time to time.
So yet again I have let my blog slip. It’s like knitting. Every once in a while I think ‘hey! Isn’t knitting fun? Why don’t I do that anymore?’ Then I find the three rows of baby pink purl/plain (who the hell cares anyway) stitches which I gave up on some time ago. I nobly unstitch them all, wanting to start from scratch, remember I can’t for the life of me cast on and give up, turning instead to solving the half-solved rubik’s cube which has lain dormant for three or four years.
Actually, there have been a few crazy customers since I last posted.
There was the woman who went ape-shit at me for scanning a barcode because “IT GIVES YOU CANCER.” Apparently she’s been in previously as well. The mind boggles.
Then there was the woman who had no idea who Glenn Beck was. She was interested in buying his book. I informed her that the shop was really not likely to keep books on the shelf by hateful, bigoted, insane, xenophobic MANIAC. Okay so maybe I wasn’t that forthright, but you know my job has to keep me in pringles and vitamin water.
Finally (and my favourite) there was the woman who handed over her loyalty card and a book and said “can you tell me if I’ve bought this book already?”
Um, yes, ’cause we live in a magical place called Oceania. In this place, Big Brother, AKA a major NZ bookstore chain, monitors your purchases for your convenience. We also log your bathroom visits.