2 recent interactions

Interaction #1:
young latina woman: can you tell me where to find the books on STDs?
me: sexually transmitted diseases?
young latina woman: what?? NO!
me: SATs?
young latina woman: huh? yeah.



Interaction #2: [she has a school reading list in hand]
young latina woman (different from #1): yeah, just gimme 2 books off the list.
me: which two?
young latina woman: i don't care. just make em inneresting.
me: i can't make a book interesting.
me: {handing her richard wright's Native Son}
young latina woman: Yo! this book is mad fat! gimme a skinny book!

what's for dessert?

2 beautiful things happened today at work. First, a small group of mentally disabled people came in. One of the men was really into the cookbooks and wandered over to where I have a display of (the most hateful woman on tv next to Oprah) Rachael Ray. As soon as he saw her cookbooks, he gasped, picked up one with a particularly toothy, joker-like smile on it and stuck his face about 3 inches from the cover. He then cooed, the way a beastly mother would to a child, "You're my favorite girl. Yes you are. Yes you are!". I had to walk away because I was laughing so hard. Finally, some insight into the Rachael Ray demographic.

About an hour later, a mid-30's-ish woman who I can only assume was homeless went into the women's room with her grandma cart. A minute later one of my co-workers came out of there and told me I had to go check out the scene in the bathroom. On the sink counter she had assembled a blender, a hot plate, a dutch oven and about a pound of raw sausage. She was making herself some lunch. In the BATHROOM.

I swear, some days I love that place so much.

good, bad and pretty ugly

For some reason I started thinking about all of the jobs I've held in my life, and there have been a few. It's probably on my mind because I'm being underutilized in a giant bookstore, but I'm not currently willing to commit myself to other, more challenging endeavors. I decided to make an actual list of every job I can remember. It's something that I'd recommend you all do. It's kind of depressing, but in a funny way. There are always worse jobs that we could have had and I'm sure some of you had much worse ones than I did.

Obsoive:

High School

Babysitter

Judy’s Ice Cream

TCBY

Photographer’s model

Calligrapher

Nantucket

Baker

Chambermaid

Chocolate shop counter person

House cleaner

Florida

Cashier at Cracker Barrel

California

Political canvasser

Day care center worker

Theatre usher

USDA guinea pig*

Retail at a clothing boutique

Private cook

Bricklayer

Dayton

Cook

Record store clerk

Baker

Music magazine contributor

Country club garde manger

Home baker

Cook

Kitchen manager

Bank teller

Columbus

Bookseller

Book buyer

Worker’s comp data entry

Worker’s comp intake manager

Worker’s comp claims specialist

New York

Chocolate maker

Pastry cook

Ice cream maker

Catering company pastry cook

Home baker

Kitchen manager

Assistant office manager

Event planner

Event company sales rep**

Catering chef

Non-profit radio documentary company intern

Bookseller

Baker

*on paper, the worst gig

** in reality, absolute rock bottom

nobody wants a charlie in the box

Working in retail, a bookstore specifically, means that I work with a lot of overeducated people who cannot or will not function in a typical corporate environment (myself included on the environment part). Half of my coworkers are usually 15-45 minutes late every day. It gets very clique-y, resulting in over the top snubbings when there is a perceived slight. One woman spazzes out and cries whenever management requests she do something/anything.

But the most bizarre and entertaining of my coworkers is a man I work closely with every day. He is ostensibly a priest, in his mid-70's, but after about 2 months of getting to know him, I came to realize that whatever he may have been in an earlier phase of his life, he most certainly no longer is. He claims to be a priest, living in a convent in Chelsea. He says he is a medical doctor. He claims to have two academic PhDs (I'm not sure of the subjects). He arrives to work every day in a full habit. He is filled to the top with bitterness and drama, openly nursing unrequited crushes on straight men. And he happens to resemble Count Chocula. A lot.


He has some medical problems, namely Parkinson's, which lately has been getting more obvious and certainly more frustrating for him. Unfortunately, even with a genuine ailment, most everyone just humors him, since he daily says things like "I'll certainly be dead in a year" and "I don't have long to live". I've nicknamed him (to his face, of course) Fred, for Fred Sanford and started saying things like "Hold on Father, I'll go get Elizabeth". Of course, he isn't holding out for Elizabeth. His face lights up whenever the cute Chelsea boys come in to see him. That and our coworker that he has a h-u-g-e crush on. In the mornings when it's just Father and I, he talks about him non-stop. It's like being with a 13 year old girl, except weird and a little bit creepy.

So, for now, I'm naming the good Father my notable bookstore person of the week. I suggest that if you find yourself in Chelsea during the week, you stop by the religion section and take a look (animal in the zoo style?) at Count Chocula in the flesh.