Saturday, October 31, 2009

All Shapes and Sizes

Here at the lovely bookshop I call work(sometimes home, depends on how many hours I'm there that week), we cater to all kinds of people. Animals too! Yes, our shop is pet friendly, mostly because my boss raises wiener dogs(the real name I can't spell), and since they're a frequent visitor to the shop, she saw no reason to discriminate against any other four-legged friends.

I've seen just about every type of canine you can think of come in. Wiener dogs are the ones we see the most, again, thanks to my boss. Her two little dogs have had two litters in the past year, one was planned, the other not. Both times she would have to bring in the pups and mother for a few days after birth to keep an eye on them. So cute! You can't imagine how hard it is to concentrate on work when there's these adorable chocolate colored puppies so close by! I would've bought one, however my apartment building doesn't allow pets(i have a cat tho, shh!), and a dog just wouldn't be comfortable in my tiny home. Having to watch these puppies grow up then be sold to other people was torture!!

However, a lot of them were adopted by frequent customers, and so they make many reappearances to the shop. I always get that little baby voice whenever I see them too. You know, the one that starts out going, "Oh! What a precious lil baby! Oh, you're just so cute!". It just gets worse from there. And, I don't just do that to the boss's dog's offspring either, all dogs are subjected to it.

About two days ago we had a Great Dane come into the shop. Most travelers or infrequent locals don't know we allow dogs in the store, so they leave them outside. On this day a family of four came into the shop, with one child outside to hold the dog. After five minutes or so, another family member would go outside and trade places, so the other person could come inside and look around. This happened about three times before we noticed, and when my boss saw this, she told them to bring the dog in. That dog was almost as tall as I am! And it was incredibly light on it's feet, I could barely hear it walking thru the store. When any of the wiener dogs come in, they make so much noise it sounds like a pack of stampeding buffalo. Not this dog tho, he was as agile as a ballet dancer.

If I could have a dog, I'd pick a Red Heeler. That was the dog we had growing up, and I loved her so much, she was the perfect guard dog. Even tho I love the wiener dogs, they just aren't great protectors. If a thief broke in, what would a wiener dog do, nip his ankles till he left? That would be funny to see, but not very practical.

Most people assume I'm strictly a cat person, but I love all animals, even the ones that terrify me. I refuse to kill spiders. That drives my boss crazy, especially when I saw a black widow nesting on the outside of one of our windows, and I insisted on trapping it and setting it loose by the sagebrush. Just call me the walking contradiction I guess.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Random bookshop adventures

So, here it is Thursday, but it's also my Sunday. I love my work schedule, but I have yet to remember to spread out my to-do list to cover both my day's off. On the second day I'm usually left with nothing to do but sit on my butt or run sprints down my block. Or drive out to my mom's house and take over her computer and/or TV. Anyway, this morning while in a brief coma on my couch I came up with the brilliant notion of writing a blog with a mini antidote of just some of the craziness that is my job.

I love the bookshop I work in, mostly because we sell both new and used books, and when people bring in used books, the workers get first dibs. My book collection has increased at least twice since I've started working there. My patience has also increased, since I can't exactly predict when a book I want is going to come in. I've also gotten some really good reads that I've never even known existed. That's how I got hooked on the Morganville Vampire series, which I'm sorry to say is better than the Twilight books. I loved those too, don't send hate mail!

Anyway, on an average day, we can expect to receive 200 or more used books, and we usually sell that many, sometimes more or less. And occasionally our customers don't really pay attention when they pack up their books to bring in, much to my amusement. This has led to quite a few surprises in their book bags. I've found, among other things, dead bugs, photographs, money(which i returned to the owner), used plane tickets, once I even found a tiny black lace thong. That one was kind of disgusting since the person who brought in that bag was an old lady. But one customer has topped them all.

It was a boring Saturday, when two guys came in the front door. The older one said his wife had sent him to turn in a bunch of boxes of books. Since this was pretty much normal, I said Sure! bring in the boxes and we'll count them up. We give 1/4 of the book price in credit for used books people bring in. That credit is only good for any of our other used books, like a trade. Just had to include that in case you were wondering. Back to the story: So after getting the okay from my coworker and I, these two guys proceed to bring in boxes, all labeled "books" on the outside. They end up bringing in about twenty boxes, and while this in itself isn't unusual, the fact that they were all liquor boxes made us giggle. And these were not little boxes either. Hee hee

After they brought in all the boxes we told them it will take several days to count up all the books and did they want us to call them when we were done so they knew what their credit was. The older guy said the following:(this is not verbatim, this is just what i recall) "Sure give us a call. Oh, and by the way, if you find anything valuable in any of those boxes just set them aside and we'll come back and pick them up." And with that, they left. My coworker, "Jenny" and I each pick a box and open them to start counting. I heard a gasp of surprise from Jenny, but I was too busy being freaked out myself to look over at her. Inside both our boxes, was socks, knick knacks, sheets, and a few books. We started ripping open all the other boxes to only find the same things! There was maybe five or six paperbacks in each box, but the bulk was filled with the everyday things of someone's house!

We went through about six of these boxes, taking the miscellaneous stuff and putting it inside trash bags, and counting up the few books we found inside. After doing this, we looked at each other and I said, "You know, I really don't want to run the risk of contracting some disease or finding underwear." Jenny agreed and we stacked the remaining boxes and trash bags of stuff in the back. When we came in on Monday, we explained the situation to our boss, "Emily". She called the people who brought in the boxes and told the woman who answered that they needed to come get their boxes back, go through them and pull out the books, then bring back just the books. Turns out the woman had no idea her husband and son had brought the boxes in, she had told them to go through them first and bring us only the books. We could hear her screaming at them while she was still on the phone with my boss!

They came and got the boxes, I unfortunately wasn't there to see it, but Emily told me the woman was pissed beyond all reasoning at the guys. I guess they were getting ready to move, but the guys weren't really into helping with the sorting stuff out and packing it all up. They thought that since all the boxes were labeled "books", that's all that was in there, not stopping to actually look inside any of them. Oh, and in case you were curious, the reason they were all liquor boxes was because they got them from a bar to save money instead of buying new boxes. It probably won't be the last time something like this happens, but it'll probably end up being one of the weirdest.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

The Insanity That is My Life

Okay, so this doesn't have anything to do with my job, but I must write about it or involuntarily go insane from having the scenario repeat in my brain.

So, last Sunday I was at my mom's house. She has been recovering from surgery and has been confined to her couch for the last two weeks, so I spent that Sunday keeping her company. Mostly we were watching numerous television programs that include, but are not limited to: Law & Order, Spongebob(my son made us watch this), and Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.

With night rapidly closing in on us, I decided to call it a night and get my son home to bed. We said our goodnight's to my mom and older brother, who was there playing on his computer(he leaves it there so my mom has Internet access), and headed out to my car. Let me pause in my tale here to admit that I have a crush on my car. I didn't expect to, I didn't want an "SUV" when I was shopping for a new vehicle. But, my brother convinced me to test drive a '96 Toyota 4-Runner, and I fell head over heels. I love my car!

Anyways....so my son and I get out to my car, nicknamed The Beast, partially due to my obsession with werewolves. I start the car as per usual and proceed to back out of my mom's driveway. I went barely 5 feet when I heard a huge KER-CHUNK! and my car proceeded to lower itself on the passenger side. My first thought was, "Shit! Either I just ran over one of my mom's dogs, or the tire just exploded." I got out and went to inspect the damage. I find the wheel well of my front passenger tire touching said tire.

I then yelled for my brother, who comes out and promptly sends me back for a flashlight, because the headlights on the car were not supplying the adequate light to see. I returned with the light shortly, and after a brief inspection, my brother announces that the ball joint has broken off. I burst into tears. My brother, trying to be consoling says, "Hey, be grateful! If this had happened while you were driving, you'd be dead right now!" Needless to say, this statement has produced multiple nightmares since that night.

My mother lends me the use of her truck for the week, as none of us have any money for repairs until the following Friday. So, this last week I've felt like a midget(I'm 5'1") driving my mom's giant truck around, but I am so grateful she let me. I think her exact words when handing over the keys were, "I'm stuck home, so just drive the damn thing!" I love how my mom words things.

Friday eventually arrives and I get a call from my mom saying my car is all fixed and I can pick it up the next day(today). Then, after receiving the best news I've heard all week, she tells me the following, "Your brother says the other ball joint is worn too, but we have to wait till next payday(2 weeks away) to get that fixed. Just drive real slow and everything should be fine."

Well, couple this with what my brother had said the night the disaster happened, and I could not sleep at all! I was scared to death to drive my car, afraid I'd be going down the road at 60mph and have the other ball joint drop, sending me to my untimely death.

Yes, I did get my car back, and yes, I am driving it. My fear of it killing me is still there, however my body will not let me resort to driving "real slow". I compared the old ball joint with the new one when I picked up my car, and I'm satisfied it will last for two more weeks. Let's hope my assumptions prove correct. If not, I'm haunting my brother, because he's the one that instilled that fear in my brain in the first place. Mwahahaha!

Hello World!

Okay, both my sisters have had blogs on here for a considerable amount of time, and they say they love it. I have always thought that I would be unable to maintain a blog, given my inability to concentrate on anything more than five minutes, and the fact that I do not own a home computer. Pause for reaction.....

Anyway, after a particularly boring day at work, I realized that I would not have to update my blog on a daily basis, and could do so at several different locations until I was able to have a computer to call my very own. Sometimes the great ideas are very slow arriving, or I'm just a bit of an idiot.

So, to start of this new venture, let me tell you a little bit about myself. I am a 27 years old single mom of the most perfect(albeit slightly nutty) son on earth. And, if you haven't already guessed by the title of my blog, I work in a bookstore, mainly in the teeny coffee shop located within said bookstore.

I titled my blog as such because you would be amazed at the stuff that goes on in a little local bookstore. Customers try to get away with the craziest things, and all of us who work here are pretty much insane, including my boss. I shall omit all real names to avoid any hurt feelings or embarrassment, unless the person gives me permission to do so.

Welcome to my world!