Buddy, they wouldn't have you.
Greetings, my fellow shelfminions. I hope your March is better than mine.
This Week's Weirdo (see what I did? It's like a weekly phone-in or similar): The Circle of Thirteen Guy.
This gentleman has come into the shop several times in the past year. He's not terribly quick on the uptake if you catch my whatever - a tendency to gaze slackly at you after you answer his clumsily-expressed questions, as if at any moment you will spring up from your chair shrieking "OMG I was soooo totally lying to you, the real answer is XYZ!!! LOL!!!" This, of course, never happens; your handsome neighbourhood occult shop proprietor endeavours to answer even the most banal or ignorant question with dignity and respect (and dare I say - aplomb?) This gentleman, however, pushes even my infinite patience to the limit of endurance. A typical encounter runs thusly:
Me: Dashing, suave, worldly but vaguely benevolent
COTG: Circle of Thirteen Guy
ME: ...oh bollocks, it's him again, bugger, everyone else is suddenly "busy" polishing faux Egyptian artefacts, cursesAHEM Hello again, sir, how are you?
COTG: I want to join a Circle of Thirteen (pronounced "firteen" and without inflection of any kind)
ME: A... Circle of Thirteen, sir? Perhaps you could elaborate for me? (What's he mumbling about, no such term, ooo the jewellery cabinet's all streaky...)
COTG: *insert inane ramblings about Satanic sects largely culled from sub-Wheatley standard potboilers, all naked priestesses and jolly blasphemies*
ME: I see. I'm not aware of any Satanic organisations in this city at present, sir. (At least none I'd consider introducing you to, you shrunken social rejectAHEM) Which particular organisation did you have in mind?
COTG: One with a Circle of Thirteen in it.
ME: ~Sigh~ Church of Satan? Temple of Set? Order of Nine Angles?
COTG: No, not nine, thirteen.
ME: Why don't I show you the Satanism section, sir? Look, here are some nice sinister-looking books, ooo dark, aren't they? Why don't you browse some of these for a while?
I scarper back to the safety of FOS and quickly generate some Important Things that must be attended to *right now* if civilization is to endure.
COTG: None of these mention the Circle of Thirteen. Can you put me in touch with a Circle of Thirteen Circle of Thirteen Circle of Thirteen?
ME: GAAAAAAAH! Look, here is the website for the Temple of Set, they're one of the pre-eminent Satanic organisations in the world, they have a shiny website ooo. Please direct all further enquiries to them.
COTG: Will they have a Cir-
ME: YES! For pity's sake YES! That's exactly what they'll have. They'll be THRILLED to have you on board, they'll probably give you your OWN Circle of Fucking Thirteen, okay? OKAY?!?
(The organisation in question, it should be noted, does not welcome these sorts of losers, and to my knowledge have no constitutional body known as a Circle of Thirteen. I was worn down, okay?)
COTG of course bought none of the books. He *did* put up a scrawly advert on the community noticeboard "seeking C of T" though.
Then he asked me to print out the Temple of Set's entire website.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGGHHHHHHHHHH.
This Week's Weirdo (see what I did? It's like a weekly phone-in or similar): The Circle of Thirteen Guy.
This gentleman has come into the shop several times in the past year. He's not terribly quick on the uptake if you catch my whatever - a tendency to gaze slackly at you after you answer his clumsily-expressed questions, as if at any moment you will spring up from your chair shrieking "OMG I was soooo totally lying to you, the real answer is XYZ!!! LOL!!!" This, of course, never happens; your handsome neighbourhood occult shop proprietor endeavours to answer even the most banal or ignorant question with dignity and respect (and dare I say - aplomb?) This gentleman, however, pushes even my infinite patience to the limit of endurance. A typical encounter runs thusly:
Me: Dashing, suave, worldly but vaguely benevolent
COTG: Circle of Thirteen Guy
ME: ...oh bollocks, it's him again, bugger, everyone else is suddenly "busy" polishing faux Egyptian artefacts, cursesAHEM Hello again, sir, how are you?
COTG: I want to join a Circle of Thirteen (pronounced "firteen" and without inflection of any kind)
ME: A... Circle of Thirteen, sir? Perhaps you could elaborate for me? (What's he mumbling about, no such term, ooo the jewellery cabinet's all streaky...)
COTG: *insert inane ramblings about Satanic sects largely culled from sub-Wheatley standard potboilers, all naked priestesses and jolly blasphemies*
ME: I see. I'm not aware of any Satanic organisations in this city at present, sir. (At least none I'd consider introducing you to, you shrunken social rejectAHEM) Which particular organisation did you have in mind?
COTG: One with a Circle of Thirteen in it.
ME: ~Sigh~ Church of Satan? Temple of Set? Order of Nine Angles?
COTG: No, not nine, thirteen.
ME: Why don't I show you the Satanism section, sir? Look, here are some nice sinister-looking books, ooo dark, aren't they? Why don't you browse some of these for a while?
I scarper back to the safety of FOS and quickly generate some Important Things that must be attended to *right now* if civilization is to endure.
COTG: None of these mention the Circle of Thirteen. Can you put me in touch with a Circle of Thirteen Circle of Thirteen Circle of Thirteen?
ME: GAAAAAAAH! Look, here is the website for the Temple of Set, they're one of the pre-eminent Satanic organisations in the world, they have a shiny website ooo. Please direct all further enquiries to them.
COTG: Will they have a Cir-
ME: YES! For pity's sake YES! That's exactly what they'll have. They'll be THRILLED to have you on board, they'll probably give you your OWN Circle of Fucking Thirteen, okay? OKAY?!?
(The organisation in question, it should be noted, does not welcome these sorts of losers, and to my knowledge have no constitutional body known as a Circle of Thirteen. I was worn down, okay?)
COTG of course bought none of the books. He *did* put up a scrawly advert on the community noticeboard "seeking C of T" though.
Then he asked me to print out the Temple of Set's entire website.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGGHHHHHHHHHH.