Was remembering one of my side jobs, while reading about closures of a certain kind of specialty shop. Once upon a time I wasn't too picky about where I filled out an application for. In this case, years ago, after working for some time at a bookstore that went under new management that decided to seemingly arbitrarily slash the staff, including me. I ended up taking a job after that at a comic shop that lasted almost two years. If I had a title, it was something like "assistant deputy vice co-sub-manager" or something like that.
Now this wasn't some hole-in-the-wall slum shop, or some joint where you couldn't move for all of the poorly stacked merchandise and comic long boxes everywhere, it was a clean, bright place, mostly an OK place to work but it still attracted some, ah, characters.
For example, there was this one guy who showed up now and then, always wore a backpack and spoke with this Jerry-Lewis-on-helium-voice cranked up to eleven. He was pretty short, and always traveled with this big black dude who never said much. He always gravitated toward the books with female leads and would debate loudly with no one in particular while he stood in the aisles of the store. I remember one day a mother and her son, who looked about ten, entered the store just as Captain Backpack started going into a spiel about the size of
Lady Death's tits, and whether or not Lady Death could beat
Phantom Lady in a wrestling match. Imagine Jerry Lewis circa 1958 talking loudly through a megaphone and saying (paraphrased roughly): "Man! Lady Death's got the BIGGEST BOOBSH in comicsh! Holy cow! If she and Phantom Lady fought it'd be a total BOOBFEST!" and on and on at top volume. "Oh my GOD! Look at 'em on this page!! Holy D Cups, Batman!" Anyway, after staring at this guy for a minute as he went on his spiel, the mom looked around nervously before pulling her son out of the store.
Now there were some customers, some people who would get very miffed if we didn't have what they want, especially if they drove from miles away to get to the store. Well, one week the distributer made a mistake and sent some copies of some Wildstorm crap or something instead of the copies of the fourth or fifth issue of some Marvel title that was a hot thing at the moment, that we had ordered. The owner/manager got it sorted out and they would send us the issues the following week. For the six days until then I worked dreading having to deal with some of the regular customers who would want that issue 5. Primarily a guy named Zed of all things, that didn't have a job that I knew of but somehow managed to have exactly enough money every week to buy the six comics on his pull list.
He showed up Thursday as always to get his books, we had them all...asides from that certain issue. I gave him his books and thought of a way to tactfully reveal one of them wasn't in. The exchange went something like
ZED: "Where's issue 5 of [title I can't remember]
ME: "We had a little problem with the distributor, and they sent us the wrong-"
ZED: "Bullshit!"
Me: "-book. It'll be here next week."
ZED: "That's fucking bullshit."
ME: "Yeah I know, I know but-"
ZED: "So where is it?"
ME: "What?"
ZED: Where's my book!?!?
ME; "What?"
ZED: "I know you have it, it has to be here, you fucking liar!"
ME: "I just told you there was a mistake and-".
ZED: "COMICS DON'T JUST NOT COME!"
ME: (internally thinking something probably like 'huh?')
ZED: "I've never had a comic not come before. What's your problem with me?"
ME: "I don't have a problem with-"
ZED: "Then give me my comic, I know you have it!"
and it went on and on like that for an interminable length of minutes. Even when the owner/manager came out of the back to explain what happened, Zed was convinced we had stacks of the issue he wanted in the back, or something, and finally left, storming out of the store while calling me a prick.