Hippie Artist:
He came in the door swaying his hips to the light rock Christmas music I have to play. His beard was quite shaggy and his clothes were all matted. After a few minutes of hearing Elton John belting out White Christmas he came up to me and asked, “dyahaveanycharcoalpencils?” I showed him where they were and every so often I would hear some odd musical burst from the art section.
Scrooge:
I found her wandering around the store so I asked her if I could help her with anything. She raised one of her unkempt eyebrows at me and glanced me over- all the way down to my unpolished Doc Martens. In a low guttural voice she spat, “Do you happen to have any Sunday school stamp pads?” I suppose I gave her a quizzical look. “Sunday school? Do you mean regular stamp pads that you can use during Sunday school?” She frowned and said, “Well, those too.” We didn’t have anything and when she found out her frumpy countenance worsened. She ended up just buying stickers and as I placed them in a “Have a Merry Christmas, blah blah” bag I wished her the happiest of Christmases. She just ignored me. I had an un-Christian like urge to grab one of the candy canes sitting on the counter and pound her a bit.
Guy on phone:
*phone rings*
Me: (In pleasant voice) Bowers, this is Jennifer.
Him: Yeah, what brand of speakers to you carry?
Me: * giggle *
Him: Um. * chuckle *
Me: This is a school supply store.
Him: Oh man, I feel stupid. Bye.
Me: See ya.
Little boy
I could glimpse him coming up the sidewalk. He was wearing a plaid shirt and little jeans. He flung his body at the double doors and barely managed to pull one of them open. With a deep breath, he stuck his head inside. His chocolate eyes grew larger as they roamed the store and then settled on me. I heard him as he muttered, “Whoa. ‘Dis is da wrong store.” And with that he turned and ran.