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!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
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).
Friday, June 29, 2007
Worst. Day. Ever.
This is going to be long and it's going to be painful. Enjoy.
Look, I know the obvious Comic Book Guy references here, but I feel like I am obliged to make this fucking call. First of all....Within an hour of my shift, I'm already cranky, hungry (no breakfast again) and bored with the constant barrage of Nerds wanting shit that hasn't even hit the shelf yet. Yes, I know you are getting impatient, I can hear the panting desperating over the phone. The fact that flabbergasts me is your insistant desire to MAKE ME CARE.
I don't give a fuck, suck up my apathy and make it your own. Build a goddamn sand castle of Dreams Gone Wrong. I don't care. Simple as that.
Then comes in Fedora Wearing Psycho.
"HEY YOU!"
Both me and Zatanna turn, she has the smarts to turn back to the computer when she sees his unkempt greasy green shirt flopping all over his body like a Victorian Gown, the greasy hat stuck to his head like an appendange. Me being the sucker that I am, raise both eyebrows.
Me?
"Yeah, I want to Show You Something"
"Oh yeah? What do you want to show me?" I replied, my voice muffled by repressed sarcasm. (I believe it will be my cause of death in my future old age)
He turns to the display cabinet where he points at the $450, 60's replica of the Batmobile.
"Can I see that please?"
Weeeeell....surely you can see through glass...but I bite my tongue and with a withering look at Zatanna and an angry draw of the key keeping drawer, I sigh and make my way to the front of the store.
I open the case, and as I am taking it out, I notice that the base of the mobile is fucking heavy, and I am going to need both hands. That somehow meant that Fedora had to stick his hands in there to "help" but ended up with a sharp jerk that made the batmobile slam against the glass. Losing a chip of the tail. Well, whatever the hell those car bits are called.
I inwardly sigh, and pick up the piece."It's made of a resin substance, therefore fragile..." I mutter, already picturing Ming torturing me over my clumsiness over the next 6 months.
"WHAT?" He screams. Making me almost lose my grip on the model."So it's not made of metal?" Fedora whines and snarls. Quite a feat.
"No, it's a hard resin/plaster model substance that allows the sculptor to finely sculpt the detail" I slowly say as I turn to put the model car in a safe place.
Fedora Hat begins his endless rant: "If it was made out of metal, like those Matchbox cars, it wouldn't break! And it probably would justify the cost of the model! $450!! How long has that been there?"
"Long time...maybe 4 years" I mutter again, but this time openly staring at his animated crazed look. He grabs his sleeve, pulls it up and exposes his cheap aluminium watch
"If it was made out of this it wouldn't break! WHY DON'T THEY MAKE IT LIKE THIS!?"I sigh openly and from the depths of my soul as I repeat my whole sculptor repertoire in a slim hopeless hope that he would understand. Fuck. I was so wrong.
"$450!!! And it's broken! Can you do me a deal? Can I speak to the manager?"
"Look, because it's damaged, I can see what I can do about the price. Hang on" I am giving you the abridged version because it's too tedious to write the fact that he kept going on about his fucking watch (more than three, four, ten times), and how the model should be made out of aluminium and that Ming was a crook for charging so much for a limited series that NO-ONE ELSE HAS since we only got one and we are the only speciality retailer with it STATE WIDE. And frankly, an aluminium car would be worth $4 bucks and it wouldn't be an exact fine replica, but ah...what the hell do I know, right?
"Can I put a deposit?" Fedora stops, mid dribble. At that point, Ming materialised and I heard his voice lisp "No, no deposits, she won't give you one. I won't allow it. I have had trouble with it in the past. Outright sale, pay it in full."
Fedora points at him "Are you the manager?"
Ming shrinks a little for being forced to deal with customers "Yes?"
"The tail is broken! And the base is dinged up! Can I have a discount?"
"20 percent off" Ming says absentmindedly, already bored with the freak contact.
Fedora's eyes lit up "Oh what's that?"
I reply "It will end up costing you $360"
Fedora licks his lips and plays with his stuck on hat. "I like the sound of that...Can I bring the money later?"
"Suure" I drool, catching Zatanna's eye. "Bring it next week...preferably on Monday...or Tuesday..." I notice her green eyes slit and glare at me as I grin and mouth "When I'm not working"
She slams the comics she was sorting and openly gives me Hate.
Fedora looks at the car, frowning and touching it, muttering something about having to get some money from a deal, how it will take him 3 days, how unfair the world was. How cool Batman was. How much he liked it. How cool Batman was. I nearly fall asleep at his incoherent masturbation over the model.
"Can the boss touch it up? HEY BOSS!" he yells as I nod wearily. Whatever. Ming jerks and looks up from his paper work. "Excuse me?"
"Will you touch it up for me, make it look brand new for $360? I can't have it for less?" He pulls out his wallet full of $50 dollar bills. I am so sick of this guy that I say "Have it for $350"
"She said I could have it for $350 BOSS. I want it! I will be back Boss! Make it brand new!" he says pointing at Ming .
"Sure, come back in half an hour" Ming says as Herr Starr comes walking out to check out the noise, only to stop mid step and turn back to the store room. Tossing one sentence at me as he opens the door: "Get rid of him"
I shrug and watch Fedora leave the store. Ming slides over and says "He won't be back, so put it back on display, I'm off to eat and will come back with the glue soon" He grabs his jacket and heads out. I stare at the door. Not quite sure if Ming was right or not.
As the minutes turn into 15 minutes, I am wrapping some comics for a customer when The Flying Dutchman comes in. The Dutchman deserves no introduction. I fucking hate the guy so bear with me as I take you on a Eurotrip that will make you glad you are not me and if you are Dutch, I assure you I don't judge your nation by this insane creature. I blame Satan himself. Yes, I blame Joss Whedon and possibly the Darkness. Hell, all of Image comics, they are all to blame.
"Oh fair maiden! Lovely you be! Has the new Buffy comic come in?" The Dutchman trills, adjusting his oversized backpack within his large burly frame.
I scan more comics that the next customer starts piling in front of me, and I don't look up. I know who the fuck this was."You got #4 right?" I say in a loud clear voice so he won't lean over and sing to me like he did last time "I can't hear your duuuuuulcet tones my dear!" I shiver.
"Yes! Why YES I did! And I enjoyed it so muchly that I MUST know what happens next!" He sings.
"Next issue, #5, won't be in until August, it's being delayed, you're going to have to wait." I say scanning the last of the comics "That will be $30" I say to the unfortunate soul, who just hands me his credit card while staring at the Dutchman with the look of horror in his eyes. Pfft. Newbie.
"Oh" The Dutchman frowns not caring or aware that it's June. "Then I will come back next week! To check if it came in!" The middle aged dutchman catches my eye and smiles. "Lalala, Joss will write it soon!"
"No he won't, and it won't be in next week, because it's due in August" I say impatiently. At this stage, let me remind you that I have tried to be nice to this guy and have tried (much to the disgust of my co-workers) to treat him like a human being, and you know what I got? I got snorts and giggles and rubbing and touching. Fuck that. No more.
I grab our public listing of New Releases.
"Here is a list of the comics that are coming in week by week, you can read that and see what's coming in, you can even check it out on our website. You don't have to come into the store." I continue in my head "Ever."
The next customer piles some comics in front of me again and I start scanning, glad for the distraction. The previous customer is still clutching his comics and openly staring. His receipts still littering the counter."Oh my dear girl! You assume that I know how to read!" The Dutchman giggles scanning the list. "I buy comics to look at the pretty damsels and gents!" He snorts and stupidly grins, thinking that his joke was going to send me into hysterics. Fine. I'll play ball. "And here I was assuming you were in it for the speech bubbles.." I drool grabbing the cash one of our regulars were offering. We locked eyes and I could see the Pity.
At this point I heard Bullseye's unmistakable snickering. Bastards. The whole lot of you.
The Dutchman frowns and begins to...well...incoherently say something along the lines of
"Joss. Betrayal. Buffy. Should Come. Fairy Dust. Doughnuts. Evil. You are Pure Evil my dear."
only to finish up with "I shall come again. When the next Buffy is in. July shall not see me grace your store. But maybe if Joss changes his mind, I will pop in from time to time."
I force a smile. Fuck off.
"Yeah sure, See you around."
Are you bored yet? I have had 6 gin and tonics, stumbled home from my local drinking establishment to drown more Vodka here. I am having a drunken ball, AND I have 30 minutes till my bedtime...So have a cigarette, some coffee and wonder back ready for The Return of Fedora.
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THE RETURN OF FEDORA
20 minutes turns to 40, and Ming comes back and asks for the Batmobile. "Put it on that desk and I will fix it, even though he won't be back." He stops. "He won't be back right?"I shrug and head to the display cabinet. I pull it out of the case only to turn and see Fedora standing there. In surprise I almost drop it. "$350! Is it fixed yet?" He goes to grab it out of my hand.
"No! More touching up! I have to go and give it to the boss, please wait a moment" I stammer and hurry towards the office cursing and snarling at the small children in my way. Zatanna and Bullseye stare after me. Zatanna recalls how I disappeared into the storeroom, stepping over Usagi who was unpacking the merchandise boxes from the trolley.
"WHERE DID SHE GO? WHERE DID SHE GO WITH MY BATMOBILE?" Was what Fedora screamed when he realised I was gone. "DID SHE GO IN THERE?" Fedora tried to wedge himself between the boxes to push himself inside, Usagi stopped him with a cold stare.
"She's gone out the back, man, she'll be back soon, just wait."
"Can I go in?" Fedora said trying to look inside.
"No" He said, rolling his eyes and heaving out boxes. As I passed Herr in the storeroom, he says "I told Ming he'll be back, and to deal with this Live One quickly. Now he's just out to cause PAIN." He didn't know how right he was. And it wasn't just the fact that Herr could hear him from an easy 10 meters away. At this stage I also didn't realise that Ming already knew he was back and was whipping out his marking up model tools shaking his head
"You've got to be fucking kidding me. I didn't think he'd be back."
Herr frowns at Ming's creepy sudden materialisation "And now he's going to be in there waiting for you, when he would've just paid for the fucking thing and gotten the hell out"
I sigh and loiter in the storeroom, too afraid to look down the corridor to the door or to even go back out there.
"Herr! Get the box! It's up there! April! Go back there and get him to fill in a release form with all damages accounted for!" Ming barks and disappears once again into the office. I step back out and the last thing I hear is Herr saying to Usagi how they are going to need a ladder to reach the dusty 6 year old box. I close the door and meet Zatanna's wide eyes as Fedora is yelling at her in his weird deep gravelly voice:
"Those fucks better not fuck with my Batmobile, it cost me MONEY and if they BREAK IT, I am going to BREAK THEIR FACE.......(heavy breathing) AND THEN I am going to grab their mobile PHONES and STEP ON THEM and and BREAK THEM because it's the same thing and ITS MONEY, this costs me MONEY!" Fedora's hands clenched and unclenched on the counter. He stared at me."WHY IS IT NOT MADE OUT OF METAL!?!??!" He screamed.
"WHERE IS MY BATMOBILE!?"
I hurry back to the storeroom and one the last things I hear is Zatanna's voice wearily saying "Well...I keep my statues up high and out of reach...."
What greeted me in the storeroom shocked me, Herr was doubled over in agonising pain and Usagi was running out the door with the box. "What on earth happened?" I say gingerly.
"I fell off the ladder grabbing that piece of shit box....God dammit..my fucking back." He seethes.
"Does it hurt?" I say in concern and in obvious stupidity.
Herr glares at me. "YES"
"Want some painkillers? You have - " I say only to break off and exclaim "I gotta get the model! And I have to tell Ming you're hurt!"
I run to the office to tell Ming, who thrusts the fixed model at me barking orders that made no sense as he went to check on Herr. I run back only to see Bullseye lifting the model base with Fedora hovering over him "OOOoooh look at that! The base is MESSED UP!" He then grabs the model from me as I approach."But this looks great!" He smiles. His toothy grin assuring me it was a done deal. At this stage Ming steps out, obvious to everyone he was mad and wanted this fucker out of his store. A fucker who lost him $100, injured his employee and was making everyone in the store stop and stare instead of buying comics.
"BOSS!...Make the base look new boss! Using your special batmobile paint!"
"It's a special marker actually" he says dryly grabbing an ordinary marker out of the stationary basket from the counter and grabbing the model "back in 10". He disappears.
If you want more, you're going to have to ask, I have done my part of therapy.
Also I need bliss drunken sleep....blissful....black....nothingness...
Catch Ya Later.
Look, I know the obvious Comic Book Guy references here, but I feel like I am obliged to make this fucking call. First of all....Within an hour of my shift, I'm already cranky, hungry (no breakfast again) and bored with the constant barrage of Nerds wanting shit that hasn't even hit the shelf yet. Yes, I know you are getting impatient, I can hear the panting desperating over the phone. The fact that flabbergasts me is your insistant desire to MAKE ME CARE.
I don't give a fuck, suck up my apathy and make it your own. Build a goddamn sand castle of Dreams Gone Wrong. I don't care. Simple as that.
Then comes in Fedora Wearing Psycho.
"HEY YOU!"
Both me and Zatanna turn, she has the smarts to turn back to the computer when she sees his unkempt greasy green shirt flopping all over his body like a Victorian Gown, the greasy hat stuck to his head like an appendange. Me being the sucker that I am, raise both eyebrows.
Me?
"Yeah, I want to Show You Something"
"Oh yeah? What do you want to show me?" I replied, my voice muffled by repressed sarcasm. (I believe it will be my cause of death in my future old age)
He turns to the display cabinet where he points at the $450, 60's replica of the Batmobile.
"Can I see that please?"
Weeeeell....surely you can see through glass...but I bite my tongue and with a withering look at Zatanna and an angry draw of the key keeping drawer, I sigh and make my way to the front of the store.
I open the case, and as I am taking it out, I notice that the base of the mobile is fucking heavy, and I am going to need both hands. That somehow meant that Fedora had to stick his hands in there to "help" but ended up with a sharp jerk that made the batmobile slam against the glass. Losing a chip of the tail. Well, whatever the hell those car bits are called.
I inwardly sigh, and pick up the piece."It's made of a resin substance, therefore fragile..." I mutter, already picturing Ming torturing me over my clumsiness over the next 6 months.
"WHAT?" He screams. Making me almost lose my grip on the model."So it's not made of metal?" Fedora whines and snarls. Quite a feat.
"No, it's a hard resin/plaster model substance that allows the sculptor to finely sculpt the detail" I slowly say as I turn to put the model car in a safe place.
Fedora Hat begins his endless rant: "If it was made out of metal, like those Matchbox cars, it wouldn't break! And it probably would justify the cost of the model! $450!! How long has that been there?"
"Long time...maybe 4 years" I mutter again, but this time openly staring at his animated crazed look. He grabs his sleeve, pulls it up and exposes his cheap aluminium watch
"If it was made out of this it wouldn't break! WHY DON'T THEY MAKE IT LIKE THIS!?"I sigh openly and from the depths of my soul as I repeat my whole sculptor repertoire in a slim hopeless hope that he would understand. Fuck. I was so wrong.
"$450!!! And it's broken! Can you do me a deal? Can I speak to the manager?"
"Look, because it's damaged, I can see what I can do about the price. Hang on" I am giving you the abridged version because it's too tedious to write the fact that he kept going on about his fucking watch (more than three, four, ten times), and how the model should be made out of aluminium and that Ming was a crook for charging so much for a limited series that NO-ONE ELSE HAS since we only got one and we are the only speciality retailer with it STATE WIDE. And frankly, an aluminium car would be worth $4 bucks and it wouldn't be an exact fine replica, but ah...what the hell do I know, right?
"Can I put a deposit?" Fedora stops, mid dribble. At that point, Ming materialised and I heard his voice lisp "No, no deposits, she won't give you one. I won't allow it. I have had trouble with it in the past. Outright sale, pay it in full."
Fedora points at him "Are you the manager?"
Ming shrinks a little for being forced to deal with customers "Yes?"
"The tail is broken! And the base is dinged up! Can I have a discount?"
"20 percent off" Ming says absentmindedly, already bored with the freak contact.
Fedora's eyes lit up "Oh what's that?"
I reply "It will end up costing you $360"
Fedora licks his lips and plays with his stuck on hat. "I like the sound of that...Can I bring the money later?"
"Suure" I drool, catching Zatanna's eye. "Bring it next week...preferably on Monday...or Tuesday..." I notice her green eyes slit and glare at me as I grin and mouth "When I'm not working"
She slams the comics she was sorting and openly gives me Hate.
Fedora looks at the car, frowning and touching it, muttering something about having to get some money from a deal, how it will take him 3 days, how unfair the world was. How cool Batman was. How much he liked it. How cool Batman was. I nearly fall asleep at his incoherent masturbation over the model.
"Can the boss touch it up? HEY BOSS!" he yells as I nod wearily. Whatever. Ming jerks and looks up from his paper work. "Excuse me?"
"Will you touch it up for me, make it look brand new for $360? I can't have it for less?" He pulls out his wallet full of $50 dollar bills. I am so sick of this guy that I say "Have it for $350"
"She said I could have it for $350 BOSS. I want it! I will be back Boss! Make it brand new!" he says pointing at Ming .
"Sure, come back in half an hour" Ming says as Herr Starr comes walking out to check out the noise, only to stop mid step and turn back to the store room. Tossing one sentence at me as he opens the door: "Get rid of him"
I shrug and watch Fedora leave the store. Ming slides over and says "He won't be back, so put it back on display, I'm off to eat and will come back with the glue soon" He grabs his jacket and heads out. I stare at the door. Not quite sure if Ming was right or not.
As the minutes turn into 15 minutes, I am wrapping some comics for a customer when The Flying Dutchman comes in. The Dutchman deserves no introduction. I fucking hate the guy so bear with me as I take you on a Eurotrip that will make you glad you are not me and if you are Dutch, I assure you I don't judge your nation by this insane creature. I blame Satan himself. Yes, I blame Joss Whedon and possibly the Darkness. Hell, all of Image comics, they are all to blame.
"Oh fair maiden! Lovely you be! Has the new Buffy comic come in?" The Dutchman trills, adjusting his oversized backpack within his large burly frame.
I scan more comics that the next customer starts piling in front of me, and I don't look up. I know who the fuck this was."You got #4 right?" I say in a loud clear voice so he won't lean over and sing to me like he did last time "I can't hear your duuuuuulcet tones my dear!" I shiver.
"Yes! Why YES I did! And I enjoyed it so muchly that I MUST know what happens next!" He sings.
"Next issue, #5, won't be in until August, it's being delayed, you're going to have to wait." I say scanning the last of the comics "That will be $30" I say to the unfortunate soul, who just hands me his credit card while staring at the Dutchman with the look of horror in his eyes. Pfft. Newbie.
"Oh" The Dutchman frowns not caring or aware that it's June. "Then I will come back next week! To check if it came in!" The middle aged dutchman catches my eye and smiles. "Lalala, Joss will write it soon!"
"No he won't, and it won't be in next week, because it's due in August" I say impatiently. At this stage, let me remind you that I have tried to be nice to this guy and have tried (much to the disgust of my co-workers) to treat him like a human being, and you know what I got? I got snorts and giggles and rubbing and touching. Fuck that. No more.
I grab our public listing of New Releases.
"Here is a list of the comics that are coming in week by week, you can read that and see what's coming in, you can even check it out on our website. You don't have to come into the store." I continue in my head "Ever."
The next customer piles some comics in front of me again and I start scanning, glad for the distraction. The previous customer is still clutching his comics and openly staring. His receipts still littering the counter."Oh my dear girl! You assume that I know how to read!" The Dutchman giggles scanning the list. "I buy comics to look at the pretty damsels and gents!" He snorts and stupidly grins, thinking that his joke was going to send me into hysterics. Fine. I'll play ball. "And here I was assuming you were in it for the speech bubbles.." I drool grabbing the cash one of our regulars were offering. We locked eyes and I could see the Pity.
At this point I heard Bullseye's unmistakable snickering. Bastards. The whole lot of you.
The Dutchman frowns and begins to...well...incoherently say something along the lines of
"Joss. Betrayal. Buffy. Should Come. Fairy Dust. Doughnuts. Evil. You are Pure Evil my dear."
only to finish up with "I shall come again. When the next Buffy is in. July shall not see me grace your store. But maybe if Joss changes his mind, I will pop in from time to time."
I force a smile. Fuck off.
"Yeah sure, See you around."
Are you bored yet? I have had 6 gin and tonics, stumbled home from my local drinking establishment to drown more Vodka here. I am having a drunken ball, AND I have 30 minutes till my bedtime...So have a cigarette, some coffee and wonder back ready for The Return of Fedora.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE RETURN OF FEDORA
20 minutes turns to 40, and Ming comes back and asks for the Batmobile. "Put it on that desk and I will fix it, even though he won't be back." He stops. "He won't be back right?"I shrug and head to the display cabinet. I pull it out of the case only to turn and see Fedora standing there. In surprise I almost drop it. "$350! Is it fixed yet?" He goes to grab it out of my hand.
"No! More touching up! I have to go and give it to the boss, please wait a moment" I stammer and hurry towards the office cursing and snarling at the small children in my way. Zatanna and Bullseye stare after me. Zatanna recalls how I disappeared into the storeroom, stepping over Usagi who was unpacking the merchandise boxes from the trolley.
"WHERE DID SHE GO? WHERE DID SHE GO WITH MY BATMOBILE?" Was what Fedora screamed when he realised I was gone. "DID SHE GO IN THERE?" Fedora tried to wedge himself between the boxes to push himself inside, Usagi stopped him with a cold stare.
"She's gone out the back, man, she'll be back soon, just wait."
"Can I go in?" Fedora said trying to look inside.
"No" He said, rolling his eyes and heaving out boxes. As I passed Herr in the storeroom, he says "I told Ming he'll be back, and to deal with this Live One quickly. Now he's just out to cause PAIN." He didn't know how right he was. And it wasn't just the fact that Herr could hear him from an easy 10 meters away. At this stage I also didn't realise that Ming already knew he was back and was whipping out his marking up model tools shaking his head
"You've got to be fucking kidding me. I didn't think he'd be back."
Herr frowns at Ming's creepy sudden materialisation "And now he's going to be in there waiting for you, when he would've just paid for the fucking thing and gotten the hell out"
I sigh and loiter in the storeroom, too afraid to look down the corridor to the door or to even go back out there.
"Herr! Get the box! It's up there! April! Go back there and get him to fill in a release form with all damages accounted for!" Ming barks and disappears once again into the office. I step back out and the last thing I hear is Herr saying to Usagi how they are going to need a ladder to reach the dusty 6 year old box. I close the door and meet Zatanna's wide eyes as Fedora is yelling at her in his weird deep gravelly voice:
"Those fucks better not fuck with my Batmobile, it cost me MONEY and if they BREAK IT, I am going to BREAK THEIR FACE.......(heavy breathing) AND THEN I am going to grab their mobile PHONES and STEP ON THEM and and BREAK THEM because it's the same thing and ITS MONEY, this costs me MONEY!" Fedora's hands clenched and unclenched on the counter. He stared at me."WHY IS IT NOT MADE OUT OF METAL!?!??!" He screamed.
"WHERE IS MY BATMOBILE!?"
I hurry back to the storeroom and one the last things I hear is Zatanna's voice wearily saying "Well...I keep my statues up high and out of reach...."
What greeted me in the storeroom shocked me, Herr was doubled over in agonising pain and Usagi was running out the door with the box. "What on earth happened?" I say gingerly.
"I fell off the ladder grabbing that piece of shit box....God dammit..my fucking back." He seethes.
"Does it hurt?" I say in concern and in obvious stupidity.
Herr glares at me. "YES"
"Want some painkillers? You have - " I say only to break off and exclaim "I gotta get the model! And I have to tell Ming you're hurt!"
I run to the office to tell Ming, who thrusts the fixed model at me barking orders that made no sense as he went to check on Herr. I run back only to see Bullseye lifting the model base with Fedora hovering over him "OOOoooh look at that! The base is MESSED UP!" He then grabs the model from me as I approach."But this looks great!" He smiles. His toothy grin assuring me it was a done deal. At this stage Ming steps out, obvious to everyone he was mad and wanted this fucker out of his store. A fucker who lost him $100, injured his employee and was making everyone in the store stop and stare instead of buying comics.
"BOSS!...Make the base look new boss! Using your special batmobile paint!"
"It's a special marker actually" he says dryly grabbing an ordinary marker out of the stationary basket from the counter and grabbing the model "back in 10". He disappears.
If you want more, you're going to have to ask, I have done my part of therapy.
Also I need bliss drunken sleep....blissful....black....nothingness...
Catch Ya Later.
Random Aside....
Now, as much as you all say you don't, everyone loves a celebrity. We all get a little giggly and star struck (well at least "I" do) when we come face to face with someone we know.
I have decided, as we work in the sydney hub and are therefore prone to have the occassional celebrity shopper, to air their dirty "comic book" laundry.
Thus far i have had the pleasure of coming in contact with:
Cooheed and Cambria: Walking Dead, Wolverine and other assorted Marvel crap
Mars Volta: These boys know how to spend some serious dollars. Racking up almost a grand between them on Vertigo, DC, Top shelf and Fantagraphics titles.
Will Anderson: Daredevil trades, Buffy Season 8 singles
Xzibit: Punisher and Spidey singles (complete with cheeky grin and charming personality)
Simon Day (if anone even remembers Ratcat.....COME ON people......): actually, you know what? I don't even care what he reads. My childhood crush has been forever shattered by the day he asked me, in a whiny nasally voice, for a plastic bag some seven years ago.
That guy fom the Hard Ons, you know, the one with the dredds - cool guy, polite, likes Neil Gaiman from what i gather.
Back in the Fox days his would have been a mediocre list at best, but come on, we're scraping the bottom of the barrel here with celebs willing to walk down Pitt st in broad daylight and admit that they, too, love the comic book.
I have decided, as we work in the sydney hub and are therefore prone to have the occassional celebrity shopper, to air their dirty "comic book" laundry.
Thus far i have had the pleasure of coming in contact with:
Cooheed and Cambria: Walking Dead, Wolverine and other assorted Marvel crap
Mars Volta: These boys know how to spend some serious dollars. Racking up almost a grand between them on Vertigo, DC, Top shelf and Fantagraphics titles.
Will Anderson: Daredevil trades, Buffy Season 8 singles
Xzibit: Punisher and Spidey singles (complete with cheeky grin and charming personality)
Simon Day (if anone even remembers Ratcat.....COME ON people......): actually, you know what? I don't even care what he reads. My childhood crush has been forever shattered by the day he asked me, in a whiny nasally voice, for a plastic bag some seven years ago.
That guy fom the Hard Ons, you know, the one with the dredds - cool guy, polite, likes Neil Gaiman from what i gather.
Back in the Fox days his would have been a mediocre list at best, but come on, we're scraping the bottom of the barrel here with celebs willing to walk down Pitt st in broad daylight and admit that they, too, love the comic book.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
TRANSFORMERS MEETS PORTISHEAD
So we are back. Sorry for the hiatus. It actually was just time to reflect and ponder on what else we could plan for this little bubble of webspace. So uh...hang about. We have IMAGES coming soon...Images! That's pictures! And two new sections. Woo.
So, comment will ya? I know you are reading this - Bullseye's Mum.
This is a little story from last week:
"Who oo am I, what and why" warbled what I thought was the tape recorder. Hang on, that's not right. I frown and turn my head to the offending sound. Last time I heard Portishead they didn't sound like a manatee mating for the first time.
"Cos all I have left is my memories of yesterday
Ohh these sour times"
I strain to see over the display of journals to the display cabinet, and what I saw ...what I saw... ack.. sorry, I get a little choked up when I recollect this memory...mainly because I know you guys won't believe me.
"Cos nobody loves me...Its true
Not like you do.."
It was a grown man, with a dark growth of stubble, and bloodshot eyes. Singing to the new Optimus Prime Wall Statue that had come in that week.
So, comment will ya? I know you are reading this - Bullseye's Mum.
This is a little story from last week:
"Who oo am I, what and why" warbled what I thought was the tape recorder. Hang on, that's not right. I frown and turn my head to the offending sound. Last time I heard Portishead they didn't sound like a manatee mating for the first time.
"Cos all I have left is my memories of yesterday
Ohh these sour times"
I strain to see over the display of journals to the display cabinet, and what I saw ...what I saw... ack.. sorry, I get a little choked up when I recollect this memory...mainly because I know you guys won't believe me.
"Cos nobody loves me...Its true
Not like you do.."
It was a grown man, with a dark growth of stubble, and bloodshot eyes. Singing to the new Optimus Prime Wall Statue that had come in that week.
"Only in Dreams..."
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