True Customer Tales: Marie Osmond?

So this middle aged gal strode in like a televangelist drunk on the spotlight, addressed the counter like a lectern before a sea of enraptured faces rather than an old piece of plywood separating her from a skeptical clerk, and thrusts a book across it at me with a triumphant flourish.

"Yes?" I inquire mildly.

"Well, I have this book!"


"I'm SELLING it. To YOU!"  Like this is the opportunity of my lifetime, eternal salvation at a bargain rate.

"Ok," I say, picking it up for examination.

The book is an out of date paperback biography of Marie Osmond, beat to heck, with a black remainder mark across the bottom.

"Well, we can't use this right now, but thanks for bringing it in."

She deflated like a thwarted toddler, face crumpling into a wad.

"But...WHY NOT?" she almost wailed.

Judging the truth as too incendiary (crappy book, terrible condition, I wouldn't take it if she paid me) I opted for a white lie.

"We've already got a copy- sorry!"

"Oh.  Oh well!"

And off she went.
A very passionate lady.

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