Still feeling poorly, but the realities of childrearing are such that I opted for work over getting my shift covered and staying home....much more restful.
Arrived at the shop to find a sizable wall of books to price behind the counter, accompanied by a note taped to the printer reading buy fewer books...I mean it this time!
Which is something of an in-joke, as I'm the shop's 'Bad Cop'.
There's a whole demographic that roll up to the counter with their books, spot me and ask when the boss will be in before beating a hasty retreat. The kind of sellers who come in with mediocre stuff and bomb the counter with hints about their close personal friendship with "the owner" while you're sorting it out. Interactions are often prefaced with variations of "Well the owner always gives me..."
"Yeah, that's between you and him," is my standard reply, continuing to shear their offerings with my straight razor eye.
As the boss told me many years ago, "the books speak for themselves".
It doesn't stop people from trying to obscure or inflate those qualities with hyperbole, which is why we have buyers and not just a box full of cash on the counter so people can pay themselves whatever they think is fair.
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