Release the Robotic Richard Simmons

I am really unsure about the nature of the comic book aficionado. Sometimes they are eager to please, and don't say much and undoubtedly release the nerd within the privacy of their own homes. Other times they are so ..... strange. And obvious. And sometimes their cliched existence is so expressed in their own words and actions that it leaves NO DOUBT that they are in a world of their own.

Like today.

After lunch I stroll in, sucking down on some poisonous beverage that has enough caffeine to fool me into accepting my 9 hour shift. Only to witness Zatanna rubbing her chin and eyeing the DC section. Usually she eyes the section in a dire hope to catch the eye of a rockabilly DC fan....preferably good looking. Since the idea that any DC fan could be considered good looking is too far fetched....I think nothing of it.

"Hey...check out that guy" She whispers, almost enthralled.
"Which guy?"
"You can't see him because he is bending down with some sort of paper and a bunch of trades on the floor."
"Want me to say something to him?"
"He's been there for hours, and he keeps muttering to himself, while touching every damn trade."
I nod. They all do that at some stage....nothing too out of the ordinary there.

However, she does look slightly worried. Is it because he has a body hugging white shirt on coupled with polyester blue pants?
Zatanna tends not to trust people in skin tight disco clothing.

I walk over to him, fixing the mess he had made in the JLA section."Can I help you?" I tower over him.
Glancing down, I notice that he has a meticulously typed inventory of every comic in his collection, complete with annotations, footnotes, and highlighted exclamation notes that can only be the typographical expressions of a madman. An anal retentive mad-man.
With his hands shaking he says
"I am checking the issued printing of these trade paper backs, to see if I have them or not in that particular print run"
He continues: "I have this in single issues, first run, the issues I'm looking for are not in my runs...I need every printed run..." he trails off and I try to contort my face so my eyes don't widen in horror.
"Do you need any help?" I ask, for the lack of anything else to say.
"I am doing well enough. Thank You"
No. Thank YOU. I walk away and make eye contact with Zatanna. She questions "What's with that guy?"
The man springs up on his feet and makes his way to the manga section where he starts to point at the Battle Angel Alita series set, like some sort of Band Leader without a baton.

I shrug my shoulders and mutter under my breath
" Fuck-ing Fruit Loop".