The Lion, the Witch, and the Peacoat.

I admit, some of the regular customers in Spenard are a little out there. If, by a little, we mean as far out as it gets. Tonight's tale will be a bit short, seing as Sunday nights yield very little story-worthy action, just sore feet and an aching brain and dry hands from the overuse of hand sanitizer. I hate touching money. Ew. Gross. Yes, I'm a little OCD, let's move on.

So, as I've said, some of my regulars are a little out there. There's this older guy who comes in on Sundays for a soda and a pint of whatever strikes his fancy at the time. My first Sunday night at work he came in wearing a full length black wool peacoat, which I complimented him on. Now that the temperature is in the near-to-80s, he has elected for a shorter, black leather coat. Suits him much better, in my opinion, and I told him so.

Somehow, in his mind, a compliment on his full length peacoat followed by a better compliment on the leather coat added up to "give her your peacoat" in this guy's head, and about an hour after I sold him his goods he returned with his full length peacoat in hand, as a gift to me.

What
the
hell?

In addition, he goes on to say that he has left his name and phone number in the pocket and that I should call him sometime so that we can get to know each other outside of the liquor store.

Bold, man. That's bold. I've gotten pretty good at fending off the admirers at work with various excuses. "Sorry, it's against company policy to date customers." "Sorry, I have a huge jealous boyfriend who does martial arts." (That one is usually reserved for the persistant guys, because I know a guy who fits the description who would probably give them a karate sandwich if I asked.) "Sorry, I'm a huge lesbian. As of just now." "No, I don't think that I would ever answer the phone if you called me because, frankly, you scare me just a little." All very good and valid excuses meant to protect me from giving my personal information out.

Smooth move, giving it to me first. I gave him 5 points for creativity, but unfortunately, you need at least a thousand points to get my phone number. Better luck next time.

Speaking of collecting points, Joe is getting more points every time he comes in. There's a fine line between being obnoxiously flirty and just flirty enough, and this guy Joe toes the line with skill and precision. Everytime he comes in, he flirts just enough to make me smile. This evening, he came in for his regular 6 pack of well-chosen microbrew, a pack of whatever cigarettes he fancies at the time, and a lighter. He greets me with "Hello, beautiful, how's the greatest part of my day doing today?" Totally cheesy, but I eat it up anyway. By the time the transaction is finished, hes realized he's forgotten a lighter. "See what happens? I flirt with you and then I forget what I came in for." Bwaha. I am a weapon of mass distraction.

Please note the absence of a lion and a witch in this blog. Until that last sentence, that is.

Also, the super cute Deaf guy came in again today. Is it sad that the only ASL I remember is how to flirt with people?