Short flashback to a week and one day ago.
Me: (reading Black Canary #1) This is the lamest piece of shit I have ever read.
Kamen: (fixing the new release shelves) Oh that? Yeah it's dreadful. Read "Green Arrow Year 1", that's much better.
Me: But I thought she was like...your dream girl and can do no wrong.
Kamen: Oh no, she can't. But her writers are fucking morons... wait... she's not my dream girl
(He added that last part quite defensively and with that stupid squak he does at the end of every sentence where he is praising the Canary)
Me: (Still reading) Oh my Lord. She has a CANARY call?
Kamen: Yeah man, it's what she does.
Me: (laughing hysterically) Horrible! And all it does is stun! Hahaha!
Kamen: (fixing shelves and obviously not wanting to join in my jeers)
Me: Man she's lame...
A customer suddenly is standing close by, half hidden by the hideous Mickey Mouse statue. He clears his throat.
Me: (putting the book down) Oh I'm sorry. Can I help you?
Customer: For the record, Black Canary is very cool. She is not lame.
Me: (raises both eyebrows) She's totally lame. To me that is... (when the customer opened his mouth to protest) but you know, we are all entitled to our opinion.
Customer: You're wrong. Black Canary is an awesome character.
Me: You know... I have come across your kind before. At every convention I escape near death just because I didn't dig the latest latex clad vixen with shit powers. Time you guys got a sense of humour.
Customer: She's COOL. Where are the Superman trades?
Me: (wrinkling my nose) This way please.
I told him I had a right to an opinion didn't I? Funny how fan boys become the very dogmatic reality they loathe when someone "attacks" the fictional embodiment of their perfection. How very Lex Luthor of them.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Friday, July 20, 2007
Flying Dutchman Part Deuce: The Freakening.
Ok, It's shipment day today. Not only is it Friday, and a day late, but we are all tired, all sick, all dealing with our own shit and none of us particularly want to work an eleven hour shift today.
"Good Lady Young Morning" *snort*
Please god no, please god no, please god no. It CAN'T be, it's too early for you. I've had no coffee and i'm all alone.
*sigh* I raise my eyes to look at the distorted chuckling face of the Dutchman.
"oh i have just missed you so much i couldn't bear to stay away" *snort*
I laugh uncomfortably.
"See, that is what we men do, say things in a funny voice to hide our hidden desires"
What now? I glance at my watch. I know it's only 10.30 but SURELY April will come strolling through the door any moment to field this unwanted crazy. I am sick and i am grumpy and the last thing i want is a grown man garbling at me in Yoda speak.....something i have no patience for even when it's Yoda, DURING in Star Wars.
"Please to tell me if there is anything good coming in this week". Scans the list. "Dark Xena, what is this DARK Xena? And Pain Killer Jane? Is this like Valium Fixer?" Deep chortling laugh.
He looks down. Gasps. "Dear GOD. Is THAT where Batman's been hiding all this time. Lucky comfy bastard. This is my envy voice"
I cringe. Look down. Remove the Batman from my shirt. He's never going back. Trouble and i are through.
In his best Terminator voice... "I am off now....I'll be back"
Well guess what? I won't be here. I am signing off to shower myself under the water cooler out back. NOTHING warrants this pre coffee. It's gonna be a looooong day.
"Good Lady Young Morning" *snort*
Please god no, please god no, please god no. It CAN'T be, it's too early for you. I've had no coffee and i'm all alone.
*sigh* I raise my eyes to look at the distorted chuckling face of the Dutchman.
"oh i have just missed you so much i couldn't bear to stay away" *snort*
I laugh uncomfortably.
"See, that is what we men do, say things in a funny voice to hide our hidden desires"
What now? I glance at my watch. I know it's only 10.30 but SURELY April will come strolling through the door any moment to field this unwanted crazy. I am sick and i am grumpy and the last thing i want is a grown man garbling at me in Yoda speak.....something i have no patience for even when it's Yoda, DURING in Star Wars.
"Please to tell me if there is anything good coming in this week". Scans the list. "Dark Xena, what is this DARK Xena? And Pain Killer Jane? Is this like Valium Fixer?" Deep chortling laugh.
He looks down. Gasps. "Dear GOD. Is THAT where Batman's been hiding all this time. Lucky comfy bastard. This is my envy voice"
I cringe. Look down. Remove the Batman from my shirt. He's never going back. Trouble and i are through.
In his best Terminator voice... "I am off now....I'll be back"
Well guess what? I won't be here. I am signing off to shower myself under the water cooler out back. NOTHING warrants this pre coffee. It's gonna be a looooong day.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Infuriating Yet Neccessary.
I want to get this out so I never write about it again.
Me: Good Afternoon.
Stupid Person: Looney Gold Finger Ranging my Cynical.
Me: Excuse me?
Stupid Person gives a deep heartfelt sigh like they have just realised they are talking to an imbecile and must fine tune their words to a lower vibration to be understood.
Stupid Person: Lone Ranger. That's LONE RANGER issue 7...
Me: Due in today I'm guessing?
Stupid: Guessing or not, can I go now and pick it up? Is it there?
Me: It's not here because the shipment has been delayed till tomorrow afternoon.
Stupid: Tomorrow.......(voice trails off like a child still eyeing the last cookie being wrapped up and being put away.)
Me: Good day Lick tomato Grandma Fighter Jet Pilot.
Stupid: Excuse me?
Me: (exhales a deep grave pleading sigh) I said call tomorrow before you come in, to save you the trip just in case of further delays.
Stupid: Oh.
Moron.
Classic Story: The Week the Batusi took place in Zatanna's lapel.
I think sometimes Zatanna really loves Trouble. They have been having a torrid love affair for years now, and every time Trouble slams his hands down and says THAT'S IT! I've had it! Zatanna must have Trouble back. At all costs. Screw dignity and self preservation. If she has to obsessively call it in the middle of the night complete with waterworks, she will do it. It always comes crawling back, weakened by the broken voice of Zatanna's bored desperation. Last week she sought his attention by wearing a Who's Who's Series 3 Batman figure in the lapel of her work shirt. It looked like Batman was trying desperately to leave without being seen. But he was caught. And at our store... pretty girl wearing playboy type super hero in shirt is a good way to spark situational comedy.
Cust1: Why is there a Batman in your shirt?
(Both he and Zatanna turn to her lapel and instantly both turn red)
Cust1: (deadpan) .... And why am I looking there?
a couple of days earlier....
RegCustWhocan'tBeNamed: (staring) ...
Cust 2: (following Reg's stare) Is that Batman trying to escape your cleavage? How bold!
RegCustWhocan'tBeNamed: If he truly was bold he would be trying to sneak back in.
later still....
JM: (in a hushed loud voice for JM knows nothing about vocal volume adjustment) Ma'am, I don't mean to alarm you, but there is a small Batman trying to desperately crawl out of your shirt!
(Zatanna laughs in a resigned and bemused manner and I quickly distract him with King Leonidas' rippling chest in the form of the 12 inch action figure.)
JM: It came in! NO!
He theatrically slumps his back and then arches his neck to the heavens
JM: I can't take him home today! I just came for my 100 Bullets, You know who is home today...and I have to hide my figures from her
He eyes the figure with deep longing
Me: Shall I put him aside for you?
JM: (his mouth moving robotically with his eyes fixated on Leonida's crotch) I will pay for him now, but I cannot take him home.
Me: Oh go on...
JM: (tracing his chin with one finger, thoughtfully) So if I take him now, I can get drunk...
Me: (eyes slowly widening)
JM: And then it would be okay to stand around drunk in my Calvins, making Leonidas cry War with only my cats as witnesses...right?
Me: (My head jerks so it somewhat resembles a shakenod)
JM: I'll take him now.
Me: Good Afternoon.
Stupid Person: Looney Gold Finger Ranging my Cynical.
Me: Excuse me?
Stupid Person gives a deep heartfelt sigh like they have just realised they are talking to an imbecile and must fine tune their words to a lower vibration to be understood.
Stupid Person: Lone Ranger. That's LONE RANGER issue 7...
Me: Due in today I'm guessing?
Stupid: Guessing or not, can I go now and pick it up? Is it there?
Me: It's not here because the shipment has been delayed till tomorrow afternoon.
Stupid: Tomorrow.......(voice trails off like a child still eyeing the last cookie being wrapped up and being put away.)
Me: Good day Lick tomato Grandma Fighter Jet Pilot.
Stupid: Excuse me?
Me: (exhales a deep grave pleading sigh) I said call tomorrow before you come in, to save you the trip just in case of further delays.
Stupid: Oh.
Moron.
Classic Story: The Week the Batusi took place in Zatanna's lapel.
I think sometimes Zatanna really loves Trouble. They have been having a torrid love affair for years now, and every time Trouble slams his hands down and says THAT'S IT! I've had it! Zatanna must have Trouble back. At all costs. Screw dignity and self preservation. If she has to obsessively call it in the middle of the night complete with waterworks, she will do it. It always comes crawling back, weakened by the broken voice of Zatanna's bored desperation. Last week she sought his attention by wearing a Who's Who's Series 3 Batman figure in the lapel of her work shirt. It looked like Batman was trying desperately to leave without being seen. But he was caught. And at our store... pretty girl wearing playboy type super hero in shirt is a good way to spark situational comedy.
Cust1: Why is there a Batman in your shirt?
(Both he and Zatanna turn to her lapel and instantly both turn red)
Cust1: (deadpan) .... And why am I looking there?
a couple of days earlier....
RegCustWhocan'tBeNamed: (staring) ...
Cust 2: (following Reg's stare) Is that Batman trying to escape your cleavage? How bold!
RegCustWhocan'tBeNamed: If he truly was bold he would be trying to sneak back in.
later still....
JM: (in a hushed loud voice for JM knows nothing about vocal volume adjustment) Ma'am, I don't mean to alarm you, but there is a small Batman trying to desperately crawl out of your shirt!
(Zatanna laughs in a resigned and bemused manner and I quickly distract him with King Leonidas' rippling chest in the form of the 12 inch action figure.)
JM: It came in! NO!
He theatrically slumps his back and then arches his neck to the heavens
JM: I can't take him home today! I just came for my 100 Bullets, You know who is home today...and I have to hide my figures from her
He eyes the figure with deep longing
Me: Shall I put him aside for you?
JM: (his mouth moving robotically with his eyes fixated on Leonida's crotch) I will pay for him now, but I cannot take him home.
Me: Oh go on...
JM: (tracing his chin with one finger, thoughtfully) So if I take him now, I can get drunk...
Me: (eyes slowly widening)
JM: And then it would be okay to stand around drunk in my Calvins, making Leonidas cry War with only my cats as witnesses...right?
Me: (My head jerks so it somewhat resembles a shakenod)
JM: I'll take him now.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Cover of the Week
I am about to bully Zatanna through this blog, and not in real life, because today she already attacked me with a widescreen poster of 300. And it hurt. I felt the spears and sweaty blood stains in the form of repeated abuse with rolled up paper. However, I really want her to write dammit. I'm going to use three words to get our loyal reader(s) to comment so you will have no choice but to retell your story. You think I'm kidding?
Necklace
Costume
One Leg
It's a story worth telling. That's all I'm saying.
Side Story
Sitting outside the store Wednesday afternoon, casually chatting, when me and Zatanna saw a unkept man walking towards us. Zatanna takes a drag and looks up at the sky, and I look away. You get city trained when you work here as long as we have, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. The man walked by, but stopped only to stare at us.
"I AM SO BUFF!" He screams while flexing his dusty grimy arms
"What?" I reply.
"I AM SOO BUFF! hehrh er er fhhsg fflopoo"
We both stare at each other. Then watch him as he stalks off muttering to himself.
"You keep telling yourself that..." I say to no one in particular. Zatanna starts laughing.
Necklace
Costume
One Leg
It's a story worth telling. That's all I'm saying.
Side Story
Sitting outside the store Wednesday afternoon, casually chatting, when me and Zatanna saw a unkept man walking towards us. Zatanna takes a drag and looks up at the sky, and I look away. You get city trained when you work here as long as we have, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. The man walked by, but stopped only to stare at us.
"I AM SO BUFF!" He screams while flexing his dusty grimy arms
"What?" I reply.
"I AM SOO BUFF! hehrh er er fhhsg fflopoo"
We both stare at each other. Then watch him as he stalks off muttering to himself.
"You keep telling yourself that..." I say to no one in particular. Zatanna starts laughing.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Achilles, the Albino and the Robots from Star Wars.
Earlier that day....I had to deal with Achilles again...I am going to let this one rip like a band-aid. Ready? First of all, he had a friend with him, a once-blonde, albino-eyed middle aged man, with an evil Santa Claus smile and greasy sleazy mitts, who reeked of Mafia. Said Mafia Albino, dumps a whole bunch of Walt Disney comics in front of me. At first I didn't see Achilles, which is a pretty hard thing to accomplish since he stinks of cigars, and wriggles his moustache in that nervous way most narcotic addicts do. I soon realised my foolishness for not being alert and ready at all times.
Me: Just these?
Albino: Yes.
Me: That will be $30
Achilles: HEY! You don't pay. I pay with discount! The glare he gives me is cold and possibly lethal, but...more importantly...He's back? I thought while staring at his stony face. How? Where? God. Why me? Is it because I told that blue haired emo to get his stick thin ass off the floor in a rude manner? Surely not, or was it because I told a man pushing a pram that was knocking everyone about to leave his child somewhere that wasn't so damn annoying? What?
I slowly nod: "Yes you get a discount"
Albino: $30? What? The prices on the comic are not the real prices? What's going on here?
He taps the counter with a heavy hand full of bling.
Me: (nervously) No Sir, they are the American prices. Achilles, the discount is on the computer.
Achilles: OK. I buy this too.
He literally puts his hand behind him and blindly grabs the large box that holds a twin replica set of both R2D2 and C3-P0. Again with the fucking Star Wars, George Lucas you have spawned enough evil, I clench my fist underneath the counter and smile.
Me: Sure. With your discount the total is $280
Albino: (leans towards the counter, getting too close to my face) You sure miss? Sounds awfully like a small discount, are you definite?
Achilles: Bah. They don't give me more.
Me: I can't give you more! My boss will not allow more, it's a saving of $60 bucks! That's awesome. Right?...
I end my sentence in mid trail and with enough mustered hope that was all dusty from my own personal misuse. Achilles frowns and the Albino begins to laugh a deep belly laugh.
Albino: Oh ho ho ho. You look so flustered, it's okay we were teasing!
Achilles greases a smile and tried to give me an eye twinkle, but it looks more like the dim eye of Death, I recoil subtly and my fake smile stays in place. Phew.
Achilles then pulls out a fat wad of $100 bills. More than 5 thousand, easy.
Achilles: Okay girl, I pay you, you deliver to Joe.
I throw a desperate glance at Zatanna, oh come on! Some help here! But she kept chatting to a customer oblivious to my pain. I slowly turn back to Archilles and take the $300 dollars he is holding out to me, all in crisp $100 bills. I inspect them, hoping to see some evidence of being counterfeit, or at least some narcotic traces but they were real and clean.
Achilles: Hey Girl! We take the comics now, but Joe is expecting you with the box. Go now and don't disappoint me.
I quickly put through the sale and hold out the change.
Me: $20 change, but Sir, you know that I can't be held responsible once they leave the store..
Achilles: What's wrong with you? You want to get mugged? You waitin' to get mugged? Just go!
Me: (mumbling) Ok...here's your change.
Achilles: What? Just go!
He takes hold of the Albino by the back and leads him towards the door.
Me: Wait! What of your money?
Achilles: Bah. Don't bother me, just don't ask for trouble.
I clutch the money in my hand and seethe. I am not auditioning to be one of your cronies in your mafia gang you silly little drug fucked man. What on earth is this? I turn and tell Zatanna who laughs so hard she has to lean on the counter and wipe little trails of tears. Oh what a dear friend you are...I grab the white large bag and storm out of the store. It's freezing and everyone is staring at me lugging this giant box in my thin work shirt. I don't need this!
When I get to Joe's, I see a gang of three men in leather jackets and gold chains playing cards. Joe is once again standing with his arms crossed over. I step into the smoke filled room. All the while picturing violins playing and expecting at any moment one of them will stand up from their card playing with a gun. I put the bag on the counter and slam down the money. Joe raises an eyebrow. "For Archilles?" he drawls.
I laugh a little too loudly, one of the men shakes his head slowly and starts rubbing his chin.
"Yes Yes. But he forgot his change you see..."
Joe: Something wrong with the money?
All three of the men look up.
I stammer: "Oh no no...he gave me too much.."
All four of them start to laugh. I swallow.
"I have it here with his receipt, just make sure he gets it, I guess..."
Joe: "You don't want it?"
Me: "No, No..it's not my money.."
All three men stand up and tower over me.
Joe: Achilles might have given you a tip?
I look at all the men staring at me.
Me: Ha...ha..uh...ha...no...I couldn't possibly...
Joe: You're OK. I'll keep it for him.
All the men sit down and go back to their cards.
Me: Thank you...Thanks guys...bye now..
I run out of the store, coughing.
I probably should have kept the money, what's the worst that could have happened? Waking up the next day with a severed Darth Vader head next to my pillow? I felt like a drug runner, already picturing the men ripping apart R2D2 and stuffing him with cocaine ready to sell on Ebay. God dammit Ming! Dealing with drug lords and selling them overpriced Star Wars figures is not in my contract!
Me: Just these?
Albino: Yes.
Me: That will be $30
Achilles: HEY! You don't pay. I pay with discount! The glare he gives me is cold and possibly lethal, but...more importantly...He's back? I thought while staring at his stony face. How? Where? God. Why me? Is it because I told that blue haired emo to get his stick thin ass off the floor in a rude manner? Surely not, or was it because I told a man pushing a pram that was knocking everyone about to leave his child somewhere that wasn't so damn annoying? What?
I slowly nod: "Yes you get a discount"
Albino: $30? What? The prices on the comic are not the real prices? What's going on here?
He taps the counter with a heavy hand full of bling.
Me: (nervously) No Sir, they are the American prices. Achilles, the discount is on the computer.
Achilles: OK. I buy this too.
He literally puts his hand behind him and blindly grabs the large box that holds a twin replica set of both R2D2 and C3-P0. Again with the fucking Star Wars, George Lucas you have spawned enough evil, I clench my fist underneath the counter and smile.
Me: Sure. With your discount the total is $280
Albino: (leans towards the counter, getting too close to my face) You sure miss? Sounds awfully like a small discount, are you definite?
Achilles: Bah. They don't give me more.
Me: I can't give you more! My boss will not allow more, it's a saving of $60 bucks! That's awesome. Right?...
I end my sentence in mid trail and with enough mustered hope that was all dusty from my own personal misuse. Achilles frowns and the Albino begins to laugh a deep belly laugh.
Albino: Oh ho ho ho. You look so flustered, it's okay we were teasing!
Achilles greases a smile and tried to give me an eye twinkle, but it looks more like the dim eye of Death, I recoil subtly and my fake smile stays in place. Phew.
Achilles then pulls out a fat wad of $100 bills. More than 5 thousand, easy.
Achilles: Okay girl, I pay you, you deliver to Joe.
I throw a desperate glance at Zatanna, oh come on! Some help here! But she kept chatting to a customer oblivious to my pain. I slowly turn back to Archilles and take the $300 dollars he is holding out to me, all in crisp $100 bills. I inspect them, hoping to see some evidence of being counterfeit, or at least some narcotic traces but they were real and clean.
Achilles: Hey Girl! We take the comics now, but Joe is expecting you with the box. Go now and don't disappoint me.
I quickly put through the sale and hold out the change.
Me: $20 change, but Sir, you know that I can't be held responsible once they leave the store..
Achilles: What's wrong with you? You want to get mugged? You waitin' to get mugged? Just go!
Me: (mumbling) Ok...here's your change.
Achilles: What? Just go!
He takes hold of the Albino by the back and leads him towards the door.
Me: Wait! What of your money?
Achilles: Bah. Don't bother me, just don't ask for trouble.
I clutch the money in my hand and seethe. I am not auditioning to be one of your cronies in your mafia gang you silly little drug fucked man. What on earth is this? I turn and tell Zatanna who laughs so hard she has to lean on the counter and wipe little trails of tears. Oh what a dear friend you are...I grab the white large bag and storm out of the store. It's freezing and everyone is staring at me lugging this giant box in my thin work shirt. I don't need this!
When I get to Joe's, I see a gang of three men in leather jackets and gold chains playing cards. Joe is once again standing with his arms crossed over. I step into the smoke filled room. All the while picturing violins playing and expecting at any moment one of them will stand up from their card playing with a gun. I put the bag on the counter and slam down the money. Joe raises an eyebrow. "For Archilles?" he drawls.
I laugh a little too loudly, one of the men shakes his head slowly and starts rubbing his chin.
"Yes Yes. But he forgot his change you see..."
Joe: Something wrong with the money?
All three of the men look up.
I stammer: "Oh no no...he gave me too much.."
All four of them start to laugh. I swallow.
"I have it here with his receipt, just make sure he gets it, I guess..."
Joe: "You don't want it?"
Me: "No, No..it's not my money.."
All three men stand up and tower over me.
Joe: Achilles might have given you a tip?
I look at all the men staring at me.
Me: Ha...ha..uh...ha...no...I couldn't possibly...
Joe: You're OK. I'll keep it for him.
All the men sit down and go back to their cards.
Me: Thank you...Thanks guys...bye now..
I run out of the store, coughing.
I probably should have kept the money, what's the worst that could have happened? Waking up the next day with a severed Darth Vader head next to my pillow? I felt like a drug runner, already picturing the men ripping apart R2D2 and stuffing him with cocaine ready to sell on Ebay. God dammit Ming! Dealing with drug lords and selling them overpriced Star Wars figures is not in my contract!
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Transvestites and the Military. Separate Encounters.
It's hard to take a Philipino tranny with stubble geeking over an oversized action figure of Juggernaut seriously. I want to say it's creepy, but it's really beyond that. I am trying to be broadminded here, but the pimples and knock knees and cheap lipstick is pretty much my limit. And it wasn't just her. 2 45 year old trannies came in one after the other in the space of two days. And they looked like those bag ladies you see still clutching those old cat porcelain trinkets that remind you of the smell of mothballs and death as they scurry and strain amongst the few garbage cans in our city.
Yet these trannies seem to have money to spend on toys (good lipstick isn't that hard to get, try not to dip into the sale bin with your male stink of cheap..I mean..."practicality"). The cashed trannie that came today even had a bluetooth piece as she was smiling with red stained teeth about the Star Wars statue of Princess Leia. One long man hand caressing the glass of the display cabinet which then caressed her cheap clashing patterned polyester smock. She even took me outside the shop so I could admire the window display with Leia as the central focal point. Since it was 7:00pm and I had given up all will to live, I stared at her as she mouthed the lines the Princess said to Jabba the Hut in the Return of the Jedi. I lean wearily on the cold pane of glass and will the cold to kill me.
After I spooked her off with the price tag, an American soldier and his buddies strolled into the shop. But it wasn't until they were at my counter that I thought anything of it.
He dumped a large variety of Marvel comics on the counter.
Soldier 1: You readin' this Avengers shit my boy?
Soldier 2: Na man, getting into the DC side of things.
Soldier 1: Are you tellin' me you haven't read Civil War yet? Didn't I lend you those SPECIFICALLY for you to read?
(I mumble the total and watch as he glares at his buddy and blindly gives me his credit card. Okaaaaay.)
Soldier 2: What of it?
Soldier 3: Don't you encourage him man, or I'm gonna put my foot up your ass for the second time tonight.
Soldier 1 (Turning to me): You read Civil War?
I nod and punch in the numbers on our machine.
Soldier 1: You on Iron Man side? or Cap's side?
Me: I'm on no-one's side. And now with Captain America being dead and all...
(I inwardly grin, cuz making it worse is my only option at this stage)
Soldier 2: (interjecting) Captain American died?
Soldier 1: Didn't I tell you to read Civil War? DIDN'T I TELL YOU? Can you hold a conversation here in this comic shop? No you CAN'T, so you shut your mouth.
Soldier 2: Well what happened then?
I finished the sale and was holding out the plastic bag to the man who was glaring at his friend with an indignant fury that I had not seen....and never want to see again. He didn't even acknowledge me.
Soldier 1: Iron Man killed his best friend, Captain America. He is living with Captain America's BLOOD on his HANDS, HIS BEST FRIEND, do you know what that does to a man?
My eyes widen.
Soldier 1: (Slowly expanding his chest and still glaring at his buddy) You read the Confession? Iron Man grievin' over Cap's body? That's just messed up, now the man's gone insane and the Hulk is going to tear him piece by traitorous piece...and you know nothin' of it.
I quickly give the guy his credit card back hoping that was enough of a hint. Oh please go away, I thought to myself, you've got Cabin fever or some shit...go away....go away...
Some more random non interesting things were said...and then as I quickly realised they weren't going away because..why would they? That's me asking too much. I tuned out, only to catch this:
Soldier 2: I think you've offended enough people let's go.
Soldier 1: You know what? There is going to be so many people pissing on my grave when I die, that I am just going to install a toilet instead of a tombstone. Let them piss, I'll have the last laugh, Ha! I'll have all sorts of crazy plumbing and shit, the works.
I snap my head around back to their conversation. What the fuck did he just say?
Yet these trannies seem to have money to spend on toys (good lipstick isn't that hard to get, try not to dip into the sale bin with your male stink of cheap..I mean..."practicality"). The cashed trannie that came today even had a bluetooth piece as she was smiling with red stained teeth about the Star Wars statue of Princess Leia. One long man hand caressing the glass of the display cabinet which then caressed her cheap clashing patterned polyester smock. She even took me outside the shop so I could admire the window display with Leia as the central focal point. Since it was 7:00pm and I had given up all will to live, I stared at her as she mouthed the lines the Princess said to Jabba the Hut in the Return of the Jedi. I lean wearily on the cold pane of glass and will the cold to kill me.
After I spooked her off with the price tag, an American soldier and his buddies strolled into the shop. But it wasn't until they were at my counter that I thought anything of it.
He dumped a large variety of Marvel comics on the counter.
Soldier 1: You readin' this Avengers shit my boy?
Soldier 2: Na man, getting into the DC side of things.
Soldier 1: Are you tellin' me you haven't read Civil War yet? Didn't I lend you those SPECIFICALLY for you to read?
(I mumble the total and watch as he glares at his buddy and blindly gives me his credit card. Okaaaaay.)
Soldier 2: What of it?
Soldier 3: Don't you encourage him man, or I'm gonna put my foot up your ass for the second time tonight.
Soldier 1 (Turning to me): You read Civil War?
I nod and punch in the numbers on our machine.
Soldier 1: You on Iron Man side? or Cap's side?
Me: I'm on no-one's side. And now with Captain America being dead and all...
(I inwardly grin, cuz making it worse is my only option at this stage)
Soldier 2: (interjecting) Captain American died?
Soldier 1: Didn't I tell you to read Civil War? DIDN'T I TELL YOU? Can you hold a conversation here in this comic shop? No you CAN'T, so you shut your mouth.
Soldier 2: Well what happened then?
I finished the sale and was holding out the plastic bag to the man who was glaring at his friend with an indignant fury that I had not seen....and never want to see again. He didn't even acknowledge me.
Soldier 1: Iron Man killed his best friend, Captain America. He is living with Captain America's BLOOD on his HANDS, HIS BEST FRIEND, do you know what that does to a man?
My eyes widen.
Soldier 1: (Slowly expanding his chest and still glaring at his buddy) You read the Confession? Iron Man grievin' over Cap's body? That's just messed up, now the man's gone insane and the Hulk is going to tear him piece by traitorous piece...and you know nothin' of it.
I quickly give the guy his credit card back hoping that was enough of a hint. Oh please go away, I thought to myself, you've got Cabin fever or some shit...go away....go away...
Some more random non interesting things were said...and then as I quickly realised they weren't going away because..why would they? That's me asking too much. I tuned out, only to catch this:
Soldier 2: I think you've offended enough people let's go.
Soldier 1: You know what? There is going to be so many people pissing on my grave when I die, that I am just going to install a toilet instead of a tombstone. Let them piss, I'll have the last laugh, Ha! I'll have all sorts of crazy plumbing and shit, the works.
I snap my head around back to their conversation. What the fuck did he just say?
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Disgusting
Work has been kooky. Meaning a little strange but in that endearing way that means we hate a little less and the atmosphere has been somewhat normal considering our clientele.
However, I promised I was going to post more so here it is.
Frankly, I know it's winter, I can feel the cold (duh) and with that comes the knowledge that winter makes people sick. But why do they have to be so disgusting?
Last Saturday as we were frantically working, Bullseye nudges me.
"Check that out"
I look up from the orders I was billing, and notice the kid I had seen before picking his nose a little, fully going for it.
I'm talking about one finger going so far up his nose, he was actually DIGGING without a SHOVEL. God dammit.
I frown and nod. Oh I see it - wait...Oh God...he's touching the comics!
"Quick! Make him stop!"
Bullseye shrugs. Since he does as little work as possible, for he prides himself on judging what is important for him to do and not do, he says "Fuck no. I'll catch something."
I bite my lip and consider telling Zatanna, since it was The Sandman trades he was flicking though (or flicking at, I couldn't tell from the angle I was observing him from), and I knew her blind rage would be fantastic to watch.
But it was just too gross. And she was at lunch at the time.
It reminded me of the time I caught The Master digging into his nostrils oblivious to everyone staring at him, as he was reading the latest Ultimate Spider-Man comic. And which each page he turned he was smearing his little green friends all over Bendis most mediocre work. All the while exclaiming "Spidey! You can't do that! Bendis you retarded fuck, what are you doing to Spidey?"
Hmmm...and I was remembering this little nugget of repulsion, I notice that the Nose Picker began to eat his friends.
His snotty, disease ridden friends....
I gag. I'm never touching those trades again. Well, maybe I would touch them, as I throw them into a raging bonfire. Oh and by the way this guy was about 20 years old and possibly has never felt a woman even looking at him without repulsion (and possibly never will).
However, I promised I was going to post more so here it is.
Frankly, I know it's winter, I can feel the cold (duh) and with that comes the knowledge that winter makes people sick. But why do they have to be so disgusting?
Last Saturday as we were frantically working, Bullseye nudges me.
"Check that out"
I look up from the orders I was billing, and notice the kid I had seen before picking his nose a little, fully going for it.
I'm talking about one finger going so far up his nose, he was actually DIGGING without a SHOVEL. God dammit.
I frown and nod. Oh I see it - wait...Oh God...he's touching the comics!
"Quick! Make him stop!"
Bullseye shrugs. Since he does as little work as possible, for he prides himself on judging what is important for him to do and not do, he says "Fuck no. I'll catch something."
I bite my lip and consider telling Zatanna, since it was The Sandman trades he was flicking though (or flicking at, I couldn't tell from the angle I was observing him from), and I knew her blind rage would be fantastic to watch.
But it was just too gross. And she was at lunch at the time.
It reminded me of the time I caught The Master digging into his nostrils oblivious to everyone staring at him, as he was reading the latest Ultimate Spider-Man comic. And which each page he turned he was smearing his little green friends all over Bendis most mediocre work. All the while exclaiming "Spidey! You can't do that! Bendis you retarded fuck, what are you doing to Spidey?"
Hmmm...and I was remembering this little nugget of repulsion, I notice that the Nose Picker began to eat his friends.
His snotty, disease ridden friends....
I gag. I'm never touching those trades again. Well, maybe I would touch them, as I throw them into a raging bonfire. Oh and by the way this guy was about 20 years old and possibly has never felt a woman even looking at him without repulsion (and possibly never will).
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