After yesterday's rejection, my schizophrenic albatross tried a different tactic- holding a dirty manila folder over her face as she scurried past, like a movie star exiting a paparazzi-infected doorway. Alas, she was still wrapped in her grubby crimson blanket, all the red flag I needed. She dumped her bag in the cooking section as I headed after.
"HEY. You're banned, get out."
"I'm just gonna buy something!"
"No you're not, you're going to leave or I'm calling the cops."
"Well someone is trying to KILL ME. Don't you care that someone is trying to KILL ME."
"I'm not a cop, I sell books- it's not my job to fight crime. Get out."
She wasn't looking all that compliant and I wasn't relishing another ejection, so I grabbed her bags and headed for the door.
"These are going in the trash unless you get a move on."
The ploy worked and I avoided both a 911 call and a wrestling match.
Bleh.
2 comments:
Just your average Monday morning.
as crazy as she is, I'm surprised she's still on the loose.
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