Blah.
The anime store is weird.
It's pretty fun most of the time; I get to chatter with relatively well-balanced people about something I enjoy. I can keep a customer engaged for a long time, coax them into a new series, warn them away from crappy manga (Return to the Labyrinth, I'm looking at you >:|), and generally have a good time. I get to screw around whenever customers aren't around; I can read manga or watch anime once the shelves are stocked and all the other fiddle-faddle neccessary to keep the store running is done.
But then the weirdos stumble in the door.
Example:
I was working a while ago, dealing with the typical Saturday rush, and He walks in. He is the fat, slovenly, desperate creep who likes to stare at my tits and thinks he has a shot with me.
Now, I'm no prize pig myself; my clothes are baggy and I don't wear makeup. But at least I brush my teeth. Jesus.
Nothing else ruins a good day at the store like having this scumbag come in and stand around for ten minutes just so he can blatantly stare at my tits. You'd think I'd be used to this sort of thing by now, seeing as how a good chunk of the store's clientele is made up of desperate, lonely nerds. But this guy has perfected the Creepy Stare.
I really wish he'd fall down a manhole or something.
It's pretty fun most of the time; I get to chatter with relatively well-balanced people about something I enjoy. I can keep a customer engaged for a long time, coax them into a new series, warn them away from crappy manga (Return to the Labyrinth, I'm looking at you >:|), and generally have a good time. I get to screw around whenever customers aren't around; I can read manga or watch anime once the shelves are stocked and all the other fiddle-faddle neccessary to keep the store running is done.
But then the weirdos stumble in the door.
Example:
I was working a while ago, dealing with the typical Saturday rush, and He walks in. He is the fat, slovenly, desperate creep who likes to stare at my tits and thinks he has a shot with me.
Now, I'm no prize pig myself; my clothes are baggy and I don't wear makeup. But at least I brush my teeth. Jesus.
Nothing else ruins a good day at the store like having this scumbag come in and stand around for ten minutes just so he can blatantly stare at my tits. You'd think I'd be used to this sort of thing by now, seeing as how a good chunk of the store's clientele is made up of desperate, lonely nerds. But this guy has perfected the Creepy Stare.
I really wish he'd fall down a manhole or something.