anthology

Each day brings a selection of mildly amusing/entertaining/mystifying events or interactions that don't quite make it over the bar for their own post, but which still rise far enough above most generic retail happenings to stick in my erratic memory.
Here is today's quota, preserved for posterity in bloggy amber.

Five people have come in asking if they could get applications (which we don't have), only one of them had a resume handy. Kids, learn from the scouts- BE PREPARED!

The flyleaf of Philip Roth's novel The Breast reads, in burnt orange text on a maroon background,

The story of the man who turned into a female breast.

A guy was herding a large class of kids past the door and paused to point out the store-
"Kids! KIDS! This is the used book store, where you can go if you don't want to buy the book new!"
One kid in the herd immediately began shrieking incoherently, and they moved on up the road.

A gal came in looking for The Tao of Pooh, which we had. Then she wondered if we had The Te of Piglet, which we did not.
I gave her my usual spiel about the unreliability of used book supply, how we never know when or if something will show up, but to keep checking.
Ten minutes later a gal came in with three boxes of books to sell, including (of course) a bright shiny copy of The Te of Piglet sitting right on top.
This happens much to often to be coincidence.

One of the oddball regulars (who buys just enough stuff to avoid re-classification as retail parasite) parked himself at the counter with a story to tell.
He'd sent away for a catalog he thought might interest me as "a fellow book professional". He dug around in his omnipresent duffel bag and fished it out for display. It was neatly wrapped and tied with string, the way my great grandmother used to tie her packages, and the object itself had a lovely cover of handmade paper.
"It came from India," he said. "You don't get this kind of thing here! Over there, labor is cheap."

A weird redneck-ish dude who carries on like he's doing us a huge favor every time he buys a book came in with an even more dyed-in-the-wool redneck buddy.
"See, look, I even bring MORE people!" he half-shouted on his way past the counter.
His buddy chimed in en route to the construction section, in a loud, weirdly gulping voice,
"why we even need books anymore hah hah we got the internet now hah hah why we even need to buy books hah hah internet's free hah hah..."