Why Books Can Lead To Drinking

Here is what I have learned in the past nine months: people who shop at book stores are disturbingly unappreciative and rude human beings.  

I have experienced a range of behavior from customers that starts at holier-than-thou thirteen year old girls and ends at sexually frustrated forty three year old men.  Mix in gold digging "housewives" and bitter old men, and you've got yourself my place of employment.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, I was a motivated and jolly little college student working my ass off to become a writer.  I went to see an accomplished author speak at Drexel University one day where I was told that if I wanted to ever follow my dreams of seeing my name on a shelf, I should "absolutely, positively, without a doubt work at a bookstore."  So I did.  I now find myself standing behind a register, ringing up other authors' books, and constantly steaming milk for lattes in the cafe.  My $42,000 a year education is in the back of my brain, kicking and screaming.

It's really quite amazing how retail employees are treated by the very people they are simply trying to help.  I've had people scream at me, telling me how stupid I am just because we no longer carry the book they want from 1949.  Apparently the term out-of-print means very little to them.  Additionally, I don't know what it is about Sunday morning, but the time span between 10AM and noon brings in a hoard of wonderful men who desperately need either a bit more attention from their wives or a new collection of porn.  I don't know why they think that it is appropriate to tell me to reach into their pocket and pull out their money myself but apparently this is a completely acceptable way to pay for their copy of the new James Patterson novel.

The one saving grace is the fact that almost everyone I work with seems to share these frustrations with me.  We have accepted that our social lives must take a backseat to our heavy weekend schedules and our bills must take an even further backseat to our barely three digit paychecks.  

There are common situations that happen to every bookstore/cafe employee.  One of my favorites is the Short-Term-Memory-Loss.  Example:

"Hi, how are you today?"  I smile as I greet the customer.

Customer slams his book on the counter.

"Are you a member with us?"

Customer looks at me like I just asked him to cut open his stomach and hand over his kidney.  I take this as a no, he is certainly not a member with us.

"Well just so you're aware, with our membership you can save 40% off of bestsellers, 20% off adult hardcovers, and 10% off everything else in the store."  I keep the smile on.  You can never ever let the smile fade away.

"My wife might be a member."

"Ok, great!  Do you have the card on you or should I look up your phone number?"

Customer, keeping his death stare on me, reaches into his pocket and slams his wallet down on the table.  He blindly goes through a seven inch thick wad of credit cards: Black and Gold American Express, Visa, Mastercard, the deed to his Mercedes Benz and Jaguar.  No membership card.

"Ok, why don't I just look up-"

"215-555-4382." Customer mumbles in half a second flat, before I even get a chance to go to the lookup screen on my monitor.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Smile smile smile.  Just keep freakin smiling.

"TWO.  ONE.  FIVE.   FIVE.  FIVE.  FIVE.   FOUR.  THREE.  EIGHT.  TWO."  Customer is now borderline yelling and talking to me like I'm just learning my numbers.

I look up the number and see that yes, his wife is in fact a member.  However that membership expired in 1992.

"I'm sorry your membership has expired.  Would you like to renew it?  It is a $25 renewal fee."

"Yeah, whatever, fine."

"Ok, and would you like a gift receipt with that?"

"A what?"

"A gift receipt."

"Of course I want a receipt.  What, you guys gonna charge me for a receipt?  Borders always gives receipts."

"No sir, you'll get a regular receipt, but I asked if you wanted a gift receipt.  Are you giving the book as a gift?"

"No, it's for me!  What the hell is a gift receipt?  I just want a receipt!"

"Ok."  Smile.

I ring up and the book and renew his membership.

"That will be $48.25."

"FORTY EIGHT DOLLARS!  THE BOOK IS ONLY TWENTY THREE!"

"Right sir, but you renewed your membership, remember?  I told you it costs $25 and you said you wanted to renew it."

"I NEVER SAID THAT!  DO YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD DO THAT IF YOU HAD TOLD ME IT WAS $25?!?!?"  Meanwhile, I can see a wad of hundred dollar bills stuffed into his wallet.  Pocket change, really.

I now have to call up a manager to cancel the transaction so I can start over.  I then hear the manager paging another manager and so on and so forth until someone is finally nice enough to come help me.  Oh so pleasant Customer has now been plotting my death for a full ten to twelve minutes.  As is the line of customers behind him who are whispering among themselves about how ridiculous this is and how they are missing their manicure appointments.  Side question: why aren't all these people at work at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday?

A manager finally comes up and cancels the transaction.  I ring up the book and nothing else, and tell him his total.  Customer reaches into his pocket, not into his wallet that runneth-over, and pulls out a roll of quarters.  He breaks it open on the counter, and proceeds to count out $23 in quarters.

It's barely past noon and I already need a drink.