One expects certain categories of events when living on a Hellmouth, vampire attacks, demonic visitors and the like. However, the last month has been difficult in a rather more mundane way. I had a wretched, sniffley cold that hung on and on. The really annoying thing is that it perpetually seemed to produce nasty little droplets on my glasses. It was quite unpleasant but it was not precisely in the great tradition of Hellmouth drama.
Now that the thought of drama has crossed my mind, I have not even seen Spike since Willow removed a bullet (or, more precisely, a miniature transmitter,)
from his back, a few days ago. Anya has been downright surly since it happened, you would think we had done it solely to inconvenience her. I have left her alone to deal with with the customers, at the moment, after she pointed out that I was cramping her style in dealing with the pre-Valentine's Day rush.
Anya has her own idiosyncratic sales technique and I was tempted to intervene when I heard her tell a grim-looking middle-aged woman that Guarana was no good for the love part of a love-spell, but was great for the sweaty activities after it was cast! It is probably just as well that I decided to move away rather than try to catch Anya's eye. The customer seems to have bought a considerable amount, and I decided to go home and leave Anya to handle sales in her own way, after reordering.